


Suicidal Tendencies

by DropTheBeet



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (nothing graphic yet), (only a little though), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Blood and Gore, Bottom Storage, Canon-Typical Violence, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, He loves him from the start as it should be, Humour, Kidnapping, Light Torture, M/M, Mind Control, More like Spidey learning to like Wade, Murder, Peter Parker: Boy Detective, Slow Burn, Suicide, Wade dying and realiving, You can tell the fluff writer in me is fighting this every step of the way, canon-typical danger, light baby blackmail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropTheBeet/pseuds/DropTheBeet
Summary: A series of suspicious suicides with one common linking theme: Deadpool.Peter has to try to find out what's going on and track down the perpetrator before more people die...--Don't worry, still the typical humour you've come to expect from the comics. And Peter doesn't commit suicide. And Wade doesn't stay dead, so you're all good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I've been working on while I've been away, and it's not even finished 135 pages in. But it's time to start posting. Comments on what you want to know, what you're interested in, how you feel, allllll appreciated. And you never know... You may affect the story ;)

It was only late afternoon when Peter had already managed to get shot. In his defense, he’d only just caught the outer edges of the shrapnel,  _ and  _ his Spidey senses had been all over the place thanks to the multiple directions of the danger. Unfortunately, it was to his back that was wounded, meaning he needed help digging it out. So now he was sitting on a rooftop with his suit tugged down to his waist while someone else did the dirty work for him. Of course, it was typical Parker luck that the one helping him had been a persistent annoyance he couldn’t quite shake.

 

“I can kill him for you.”

 

Peter hissed as Deadpool poured vodka over his bullet wound. He would have just webbed it and moved on, but the scrap gun had just screamed tetanus. Not that having the mercenary behind him wasn’t making him uncomfortable enough. Despite how quiet his Spidey-sense was being, experience has proven the merc could flip moods faster than a whiplash. 

 

“How about you don’t do that, Pool.” Peter grit his teeth at the feeling of the merc digging around for scraps in his flesh. He was being gentle, but it felt gross and wrong. It still made him sticky with sickly sweat even after how many times he’d had to do similar procedures to himself. 

 

“Aw, c’mon Webs”, Deadpool cooed, casually tossing gore-covered bits of metal to the floor as he gesticulated with the tweezers. Peter fought down a wave of nausea. “I can make it look like an accident. Even make it look like they did it themselves in a kink gone wrong scenario, if that’s what gets your rocks off, naughty boy. They’d never link it back to you! I did this real tasty hit when I was Special Forces-”

 

Peter hastily cut off whatever that story was going to be, “What? No, I don’t want  _ anyone  _ dead.”

 

“Ah, okay. Gotcha. So you  _ don’t  _ want him to turn up dead. Hear you  _ loud and clear _ .  _ Wink. _ ”

 

Peter scowled, clenching and unclenching his hands to distract from the feeling as a particularly large chunk of metal tugged his skin on the way out. “Pool. You’re not killing anyone. And you are  _ definitely  _ not using me as an excuse. Let the criminal justice system do its work.”

 

Deadpool snorted, wiping at the wound with a scrap of disinfected cloth. “Heh, the system... Doing  _ work.  _ It’d be funny if I didn’t think you were serious. ”

 

Peter glared over his shoulder at the merc. “Of course I mean it. No. Killing. Or you’ll be the next one I gift wrap for the police.”

 

Deadpool’s mask looked up from where he was taping down gauze, eyes squinting in delight, and how the fuck was it so expressive? “Ooh, Spidey. I’m not that kind of girl! I only do bondage on the third date.” He winked, Peter rolling his eyes. “Okay, second date for you. But only for you, baby boy.”

 

Peter grunted, “Are we done here? Can I put my suit back on?” 

 

“I mean, I’ve fixed you up, but feel free to continue showcasing that rockin’ bod.”

 

“Great.” Peter tugged up his suit, zipping it back up and ignoring Wade’s wolf whistle. 

 

“So, you callin’ it a night, baby boy?” Deadpool rolled to his feet with a skip to his step, “I could totally go for some grub. My treat.” 

 

Peter ignored the exaggerated wink and jazz hands, instead rolling his shoulders to try to shake away the gross feeling beneath his skin. “Nah, crime doesn’t stop for anyone. And it’s just a flesh wound.”

 

Deadpool scoffed, “Alright, Black Knight, not that I’m one to talk, but you did just get shot.”

 

“You’re right. You’re not one to talk.” Peter saluted lazily as he backed up to the edge of the roof, “Stay out of trouble, or I will kick your ass.”

 

Deadpool fanned himself, swooning. “Ooh baby, don’t make promises you won’t keep.”

 

“Deadpool-”

 

The merc held up his hands, “Okay, okay. No killing. But only because you beg so pretty-”

 

Peter shook his head, ears perking up at the low buzz of the police radio through his earpiece. “I better not hear from you again, Pool.”

 

He swung away, only able to hear the merc’s “no promises!” above the rushing wind due to his super-hearing. 

 

_ “10-10, nearby units to 44 and 11th, shots fired-” _

 

Not far from Peter. He swung towards the report, just in case the cops needed assistance. Definitely not to avoid doing his housework. 

 

He arrived at the scene after the cops had already gone in, he could see them from outside the window. He winced at the sight of an elderly woman on the floor, blood pooling beneath her face, weapon still in hand. He knocked on the window, a female cop coming over to slide it open with a tired resignation. 

 

“Spider-man, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

 

Peter waved awkwardly, “Hey, Hernandez, right?” The woman gave a tired nod. “Heard there might be some trouble, just thought I’d swing by. Need any help?”

 

Hernandez sighed, rubbing her head beneath the cap. “No, that won’t be necessary. Pretty open-shut suicide case. Unless you wanna find the family and break the news.”

 

“Uh, I think I should probably leave that to the professionals.”

 

Hernandez looked him up and down, nodding. “Please do.” She shut the window, turning back to the room. 

 

She tended to be a bit snippy with Spider-man, but she was always polite and caring the few times he’d been near or in a crime scene as Peter Parker. He couldn’t really hold the distinction against her, no matter how much it stung.

 

Peter didn’t let his eyes linger on the grisly scene, but could still feel the guilt creeping in. If only he could have been there, somehow stopped her- 

 

But that wasn’t how the Spidey-sense worked. He couldn’t sense when people were going to be a danger to themselves. But it was still hard to shake the feeling that he should have been there, should have caught it. 

 

But he hadn’t been. 

 

He felt like nails, too sharp, grazed down his spine. He jerked around, locating the cause of the feeling and swinging towards it. It felt like it was from around a restaurant, but there was no scuffle. He perched across the street, eyes flicking between the customers and staff. He’d think he was being paranoid if looking at the calm scene wasn’t making his whole brain itch. 

 

Movement caught his eye, head twitching round to the alleyway by the restaurant. He maneuvered around the buildings, keeping to the shadows as much as his blue and red suit would grant. 

 

He watched from the roof behind them as two men in balaclavas looked over their shoulders, the third knelt down to pick the lock on the store behind the restaurant. He walked to the edge, using his Customer Service Smile. 

 

“Hey, is this costume party open, or do I need an invite?”

 

The men yelled, staggering away as they spotted him. His senses flared like a flame too close to his face, hand moving to automatically web the gun from the hands of the shortest as he went to raise it. He yanked it back, leaping down to land on the shoulders of the tallest and wincing a little at the solid sound of his head bouncing against the floor. 

 

“Well this is embarrassing, were we all meant to be coming as Peter Pan’s shadow?” 

 

He ducked under the punch, jabbing into the attacker’s ribs before upper cutting him in the jaw. “No? Endermen? Are we meant to be endermen?” The shortest growled and tugged out a knife. 

 

“What’s he, your guys’ toolbox?” Peter quipped, rolling off the dazed man beneath him to slide under the sweeping arc of the knife, landing a swift punch to the wrist and hearing the knife clatter to the floor. “They make you carry all the weapons? They not have their own pockets? I had a girlfriend just like that, I feel you buddy.”

 

He cracked his elbow down behind the guy’s neck, turning as he crumpled to the ground to drop his centre of gravity as the third guy ran at a tackle. He caught him, swinging him through his own momentum to flip him on his back and ignoring how that pulled on the wound at his back. He webbed his limp body to the shorter guy, also passed out, before turning to see the tallest starting to scramble away. 

 

“Leaving the party early? Don’t be rude, come say goodbye.” Peter webbed him on the ankle, dragging him back to the group as the man yelled. 

 

The man sobbed, pleading. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

 

Peter knelt in front of the now hyperventilating man, holding him by the shoulders. “Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s okay. Breath with me, okay? Match my breaths.” 

 

Peter took deep breaths, counting in his head. The man evening his own to match, sobbing smoothing into hiccupy breaths. He still shook, voice wobbly, “Please, I’ve heard about you Mr Deadpool, sir. I just needed the money coz I owe this guy and I couldn’t get it in time, and now they’re threatening my daughter-”

 

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. Well. This was a first. “Well, I can see why you’d be scared, but I’m Spider-man. You know, ‘friendly neighborhood’?”

 

The man frowned, “I’m not from here, sorry... I just thought, you know, with the costume-”

 

“Hey”, Peter jabbed his finger at him, “He copied me first.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway. I can see why you’re feeling a bit desperate, believe me. But this wasn’t the smartest solution.”

 

The man’s head dropped, nodding at the floor. 

 

“If you can promise me you won’t do this again, I can put in a good word. You didn’t  _ actually  _ do anything, as I stopped you before you could. But in exchange, you need to show me who’s got you scared like this, okay?”

 

The man sniffed, still trembling but now nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

 

Peter patted him on the shoulder, before wincing and nodding towards the other two passed out figures. “Hey, sorry about that. Were these two your friends?”

 

The man shook his head, “Oh, God, no. They’re his men.”

 

Peter sighed, “Phew, well that’s good. Well, who are we lookin’ for?”

 

**

 

After hunting down the gambling den that had gotten the man in debt, busting it, tying it all up, and calling the police, Peter finally swung home by 11PM. Way too late to be doing noisy stuff like vacuuming his apartment, he reasoned. 

 

He collapsed on his sofa with the leftover take out he’d found in his fridge, chewing through the chow mein while flicking through Netflix. He settled in to continue watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. MJ had originally got him started on it, but it was just the right amount of silliness to get his muscles relaxing into the well-earned groove he’d made in the sofa. He wiggled a little to alleviate the itching at his back as his wounds healed, trying to shift his focus to the show and the cold noodles. 

 

As the show turned to a suicide attempt, his mind flicked back to the woman earlier in the day and his stomach twisted guiltily. His jaw clenched, eyes flicking to where his phone rested on the cushion next to him. He picked it up, prodding the empty take out box away on the cinder block serving as a coffee table. 

 

Too late to call, but he tapped out a message to Aunt May. Just checking in, assuring her he was fine, asking to come round for Sunday dinner tomorrow. 

 

He paused the show hastily when the phone started ringing not five minutes later.

 

“Hey, Aunt May. What are you doing up?”

 

“Good evening to you too, Peter dear. I was just getting ready for bed when I got your message, what happened?”

 

Peter bit his lip, as always Aunt May could tell when something was wrong. He could sense the unasked questions behind her tone. Was it a superhero thing, should she be worrying for his or her own life? He appreciated her not asking over an unsecured line.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay Aunt May. Just a little shaken.” He frowned, thinking how he could word this. “I heard about a suicide today, a lady close to your age. It just… Got to me.”

 

He heard her sigh over the phone. “Oh, Peter. You always were soft-hearted. I’m fine, and everyone around you knows how to ask for your help. Including me. If anything were making me feel like that, I would reach out. You don’t need to worry about that. There are services and support for people.”

 

He could hear what was going unsaid. He sighed, slumping further back into the sofa. He prodded at the threadbare material. “I know. I just… Worry.”

 

“I know dear, and it’s part of what makes you a wonderful young man. Of course you can come round for dinner tomorrow. Can I be expecting a plus one?”

 

Peter groaned, “Aunt May, enough. You know I’m not dating anyone.”

 

“Well, you can let me live in hope, Peter. You’re quite a catch, I can’t see you staying single much longer.”

 

“You ever think maybe it’s out of choice?”

 

He heard her chuckle at that. “I raised you, Peter. I know you have a lot of love to give. Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. I’m old, not stupid.”

 

Peter grumbled, the conversation meandering between topics with ease. By the time they hung up it had been half an hour and he felt a portion of the weight lifted off his shoulders. He turned off the TV and wandered to bed. 

 

**

 

He can tell something’s up as soon as he steps into the kitchen and sees the tense line of Aunt May’s shoulders. 

 

“Aunt May?” He throws his keys on the counter, stepping closer. “You okay?”

 

She sniffs, rubbing at her face but not turning away from the pancetta in a pan. “Oh, Peter. Yes, of course I’m fine.”

 

Peter frowned, moving to squeeze her shoulders. “You’re definitely not, for one the hob isn’t on.”

 

“Oh.” She laughs shakily, finally turning a little towards him, her hand moving to hold his softly. “Silly old woman, should have noticed.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay”, He turned her towards him, looking at her face. Her eyes were pink but there was no wetness, her brows pinched. “Come on, you can tell me. What’s going on.”

 

Her mouth tightened, eyes darting between his own before she sighed. “I thought it probably best not to tell you, but I guess you’ve become far too sharp these days.” She huffed again, turning down the heat on the pan boiling the potatoes. 

 

She pushed him gently towards the living room. “Come on, I’ll tell you. I’d just like to get the weight off these old feet.”

 

Peter went easily, sitting down on the sofa as she sat in her usual armchair. He leaned forward, eyes trained on her face. 

 

“Well, I found out this morning that one of my friends from Bridge Club passed away.”

 

He made a noise of sympathy, leaning further forward to take her hand. “I’m sorry, Aunt May.”

 

She smiled at him, “Thank you, Peter. But usually I can deal with these things, we’re getting to that age where it’s part of our everyday lives. But this was different.” She took a deep breath, eyes searching Peter’s face. 

 

She hesitated, Peter sensing to keep his mouth shut. “Well, Peter. She… Killed herself.”

 

Peter felt his eyes widen, Aunt May squeezing his hand. “I have a feeling she may have been who you saw yesterday. I don’t want to bring back any nasty memories, but it was late afternoon. She used… It was a gun.”

 

Peter’s breath caught. What were the chances? If only he’d been in the right area, his Aunt wouldn’t have lost-

 

“Now Peter, I can see you trying to beat yourself up from here.” Aunt May scolded, squeezing his hand, mouth a hard line. “It would have only been sheer dumb luck you catching it. I just feel terrible, though. She was one of my friends, and I had no idea. She seemed so happy.” 

 

Aunt May frowned, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. She squeezed her eyes closed, Peter rushing forward to kneel in front of her and squeeze her shoulders. 

 

“Aunt May, no! You’re wonderful! You’re so kind and caring, and this isn’t anyone’s fault. There could have been so many people who didn’t get a chance to notice, it’s just… She chose not to reach out.” Peter scowled, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Aunt May.”

 

She brought her hands down to grip his arms, smile a little twisted. “Oh, I know, Peter. These things are no one’s fault. It’s very easy to play the blame game. She was always the funniest character, sharp as a tack. But I suppose they say that often hides the saddest stories. I’m just… In shock, really. I keep remembering how against euthanasia she was, it was one of our biggest arguments. What if they found a cure? She found the whole thing selfish… I don’t know. These things don’t tend to make sense, do they?”

 

Peter frowned at that, his brain ticking. That was… Odd. “Maybe something changed her mind?”

 

Aunt May huffed, shaking her head. “Maybe. It’s no use thinking about now.”

 

“Right”, Peter nodded, thoughts still whirring. 

 

“Anyway, let me up, I need to actually fry the pancetta if we want to eat on time.”

 

Peter shook himself, “I can do that, Aunt May. You can just sit.”

 

Aunt May scoffed, pushing him away to shuffle past. “Thank you, dear. But I’d rather not have to call out the fire department this evening.”

 

“That was one time!”

 

Aunt May chuckled, already disappearing into the kitchen. 

 

**

 

“Deadpool. Why am I not surprised?”

 

The merc spun, causing his katana to slice clean through the neck of the guy in front of him. Peter winced as Deadpool squealed and waved, jumping up and down.

 

“Baby boy! You came!” He stilled, head jerking behind him before returning to where Peter was crouched above him. The eyes of his mask widened, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

 

Peter jerked forward, going for the guy that had lurched forward from his cover to shoot at Deadpool, only for Deadpool to throw a knife carelessly over his shoulder to lodge into the attacker’s skull. 

 

Peter landed in front of the now lifeless body, spinning to face Deadpool. 

 

“Okay, that one may be what it looked like, because it looked damn awesome, right?”

 

Peter scowled, turning back to leap over the Jeep to web the two men hiding behind cover. 

 

“I wouldn’t call killing someone ‘awesome’, Pool,” Peter bit out, sliding beneath a car to pop out and knock another criminal to the ground. 

 

Deadpool scoffed, leaning against the Jeep behind him and addressing the now bound criminals while ignoring Peter fighting the remains of the gang. “Can you believe this guy? I hit a guy between the eyes at that range without even turning around, and he’s worried about morals? I mean, I feel bad for him, really. He’s missing out on a big part of life.”

 

Peter grit his teeth, unable to dodge a punch to his face in time but using the momentum of it to throw the guy and kick him into unconsciousness. His Spidey-senses barely cranking up in time for him to grab Deadpool by the throat as he descended on the prone form. 

 

Peter scowled, confused. “What the fuck are you doing?”

 

He could see the grin through the black and red mask, but the voice that came out was still a dangerously low rumble that made his skin feel like it was sitting atop sandpaper. “Just pest control, baby boy.”

 

Peter just managed to knock the gun from Deadpool’s hand, causing the bullet to go wide and bury into the asphalt by the unconscious man’s head. 

 

“What the fuck? He’s already unconscious!” Peter yelled, having to drag Deadpool away before his boot landed with likely deadly force into the guy’s skull. 

 

“What’s one more death between friends?” Deadpool growled, twisting round behind Peter.

 

His senses flamed, burning through his mind. He threw himself forward, keeping his hold on Deadpool’s arm and throwing him over him with enough force to knock the wind out of the merc. 

 

“Don’t fucking try to kill someone in front of me”, Peter grit his teeth, trying to keep Deadpool pinned to the ground. “He’s passed out, he’s not dangerous, just calm the fuck down!”

 

Deadpool grunted, dislocating a shoulder to wriggle from his grip. Peter’s senses screaming from so many directions he missed it as Deadpool drew out another gun from who-knows-where and the shot rang loud in Peter’s ears. 

 

He jerked round, desperate to save the victim, only to see a member of the gang drop to the floor with a bloody knee and a yell. 

 

He turned back to see Deadpool suddenly lax beneath him, smiling through his mask. He shook the gun in his hand, “We really should meet like this more often.”

 

Peter grunted in disgust, senses calming down to a low grumble as he got off the merc. “I swear you make everything so much more complicated than it needs to be.”

 

“Aww, thank you”, Deadpool spoke in a thick Southern accent, clutching his heart before rolling upright. He whistled easily as he put his gun away. 

 

Peter shook his head, sending an alert to the emergency services as he gathered up the live criminals into a neater bundle. 

 

“So, your face okay?”

 

Peter frowned, turning back to the merc. “What?”

 

Deadpool shifted from foot to foot, “Your face. Saw you clock a punch to the ol’ noggin earlier. You all good? I mean I know you’re made of tough stuff, but if you need someone to check it out then I am more than willing to offer my entirely selfless services-”

 

Peter huffed, shaking his head. “That was nothing, I’m fine.” He tested his jaw a little, starting to notice the ache now the adrenaline was easing off. Well, he could always go find another fight. 

 

“Right, yeah, I forgot. Black Knight Mercutio type, right?” 

 

Peter raises a brow, unable to stop the huff of amusement. “Well I’d need to be, with how Doc Ock and Green Goblin treat me.”

 

“Yeah, talk about an abusive relationship. You need to get outta there, Spidey.”

 

Peter snorted, “Sure. Now remind me why I shouldn’t also tie you up for the police?”

 

Deadpool froze, “Uh. My sparkling personality? No? Okay, well, they were sex traffickers, hardly human. You kill animals when you need to, right? It’s just like that.” Deadpool’s voice started gaining a whiny quality, “Besides, I’ve been real good. No destruction of property, even though it’s like,  _ super  _ fun. No civilians even got hurt this time!”

 

Peter winced, he’d been here because the kid he caught selling drugs said they’d forced him into it as payment for protection. People who traded in human flesh… He tried his best to humanise, but it was hard. Real hard. 

 

He sighed, “I can’t keep babysitting you, Pool. Making sure you don’t kill people is a full time job that I do not have the time for.”

 

Deadpool scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot, “I mean, I like to think of it as hangin’ with my bros. Y’know. Crackin’ open a cold one. My milkshakes.”

 

“You’re mixing metaphors, are you friends with the boys or trying to seduce them?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Peter sighed, Deadpool groaning with him. “Look, baby boy. It’s my job, and I am trying my best with the collateral damage. It’s just so much easier when they’re dead.”

 

Peter managed not to flinch at murder being described as easy. He could hear the sirens getting nearer, but only from his super-hearing. “Look, this time I won’t be doing anything. But only because you’re more trouble than you’re worth and Hernandez has enough on her plate.”

 

Deadpool frowned, “Hernandez?”

 

“But you do this shit again and I’ll have to call the Avengers.”

 

Deadpool groaned, ducking forward with his hands clasped. “Oh, please not the Tin Can. He’s the biggest buzzkill this side of the Mississippi. And the other side, probably.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just get your shit together.”

 

Deadpool stood to attention, saluting and clicking his heels. “Yes, sir! The shit shall be gathered!”

 

A car horn sounded behind Peter, who turned to see a taxi pull into the carpark. 

 

“And that’s my ride.” Deadpool skipped by, turning around to wink at Peter. “See you soon babycakes, and your ass I hope.”

 

Peter flipped him the bird, turning back to the groaning pile. He still had time. 

 

He leant down in front of them, “So. Sex trafficking, huh? Any idea where I can find your buddies?”

 

One of them spat, “Fuck you.”

 

Peter cocked his head. “Well, see, thing is. If you don’t tell me, the guy who just left  _ will  _ find them first. And, well, you just saw how he handles things. So I’d rather make sure they don’t turn up dead.”

 

The third paled, starting to babble even as he was elbowed and jostled by the man he was tied to. “I don’t know how to find him, but I know where his girl is. You gotta make sure she’s okay!”

 

“Shut up, Mikey!”

 

“He’ll kill you!”

 

“I don’t care!” Mikey turned back to Peter, eyes desperate, “She don’t deserve to die. Please, Spider dude.”

 

Peter nodded, memorising where to go and swinging his way further downtown to the right apartment. He soon found himself slipping inside the open window, the place eerily quiet. He crept forward, his Spidey-sense silent but his own paranoia making his muscles tense. 

 

“Hey there, friendly neighbourhood Spider-man. Just… Swinging by?” He winced internally. Probably not the best thing to lead with in the apartment of some gang boss’ wife. However, the place stayed still, air stagnant. He continued down the hallway. 

 

“Anyone home? I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m actually kinda hoping to hel-”

 

He cut off as he pushed the door to the bathroom open, seeing a beautiful woman passed out on the white tile. Her eyes were open, only the whites showing, puke dribbling out the side of her mouth.

 

He slid forward on his knees, pulling her up towards him. “Oh, no no no. Please be alive. Please be alive.” 

 

He pressed fingers to her throat, feeling nothing but a bone-deep chill from the flesh there. He groaned, “Oh God, no. Not again.” 

 

He scooped the vomit from her mouth, laying her back and pressing her palms where he was taught in that first aid class over a decade ago. 

 

He pressed down, remembering the stupid advice. “Ah, ah, ah, ah. Staying alive. Staying alive. Oh, fuck, please stay alive.” 

 

He could feel himself shaking, having to consciously lock his muscles to press the right side of firm without breaking the fragile body beneath his hands. He pushed his mask up, sealing his mouth over hers and pushing air into her lungs. 

 

He choked as he pulled back, taste acidic on his mouth, voice shuddering as he kept singing. Kept pushing. Forcing a heartbeat into her. He wasn’t too late. He could still fix this. He could. 

 

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

“I think that’s enough.” He looked up through watery eyes at Hernandez, the warmth of her hand, steadiness of her grip highlighting how he was shaking apart. 

 

He paused before turning back, “No, I can do this. I have more stamina, I can fix this-”

 

“Spider-man. I don’t know how long you’ve been here, but I’ve been watching you for five minutes.” Her voice was soft, kind like it usually was when he was Peter. “She’s gone. We need to assess the crime scene.”

 

Peter choked back a sob, finally falling back. Feeling the telltale weakness in his arms, the stiffness in his limbs. It must have been a long time to get to him like this. His bit his cheek, screwing his eyes shut against the sight. 

 

He swallowed hard, nodding and moving away. Hernandez’s eyes were kind when she stopped him moving too far, “We’ll need a statement, before you disappear. That okay?”

 

He nodded jerkily, offering a thumbs up. “No problem, officer.”

 

She hummed, eyes flicking to consider him. “Go take a seat, I’ll be out in a moment.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” He sighed, collapsing on the sofa. It never got any easier, the guilt when you couldn’t save someone. He felt even worse that he’d felt nothing but disgust over the act of killing when Deadpool had murdered those criminals. They had families too. And he only had a criminal’s word that this woman was innocent in any way. 

 

He took a shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his legs. When Hernandez reappeared, he was feeling a lot more together. She chose to stand in front of him, notepad out.

 

“So, seems a pretty open-shut case again. But I just need to make sure you don’t know anything or see anything to suggest otherwise. So if you could tell us why you were here, what you saw, anything you think is important. In your own time.”

 

He took another deep breath, grounding himself in the feeling of his diaphragm expanding. “Well, I came from the scene in the carpark down by the botanical gardens in Queens.”

 

Hernandez smiled a little, “Yeah, thanks for wrapping them up so neat. But what happened with the-?”

 

“Deadpool had been there before me.”

 

She nodded, “Right.”

 

“Yeah”, He continued, mouth a grim line. “And Deadpool mentioned they were part of a larger, sex trafficking ring. So I ask the ones I tied up, they ask me to come here to save the boss’ girl. Said she wasn’t involved, were worried-”

 

He felt the realisation hit him square in the chest, near winding him. 

 

“Worried?” Hernandez prompted, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Worried Deadpool would come here, hurt her for information. Or for being in the operation. I’m not sure, but do you think?” He left it open ended, braced for the confirmation that Deadpool was as irredeemable as the Avengers told him. 

 

“Well, from what we can see there was no struggle. The wounds on her arms were self-inflicted-”

 

Peter squinted, he hadn’t paid much attention but now he thought on it, her arms had been covered in blood. Her white dress stained red. 

 

“-but cause of death looks to be drug related. If what you say is true, she had access to some dangerous stuff. But looks like she chose to overdose, if her arms are anything to go by.” She shrugged, “Maybe it was a bad trip. Labs should be able to find out more, either way. Nothing seems to be pointing to your friend.”

 

“Not my friend,” Peter bit out. “Barely a work colleague. More a pain in my ass.”

 

Hernandez nodded, “That actually raises my opinion of you a bit. Thought from that Spideypool tag on Twitter you were buddies. Good to hear you’re not that stupid.”

 

Peter squinted, ‘Spideypool’? 

 

“Anyway, we need to wrap up here but you’re free to go.”

 

Hernandez tucked her notepad away before giving him a pointed stare. “Actually, let me be clearer. Go the hell home.”

 

Peter got up to his feet, feeling a little wobbly as the stiffness bled from his legs. “Right. Sure. I’ll get out of your hair.”

 

Hernandez rested a hand on his arm, eyes cutting into him in a way only Aunt May’s did. “I mean it. Go the hell home.”

 

Peter nodded, “Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Hernandez.”

 

She patted him, turning back to the bathroom where her colleague stood waiting. Peter pulled his mask down and swung back home, thoughts muddled and straining against his skull. 

 

**

 

Peter was glaring into the spray of his shower trying to reorder his thoughts like a tangle of wire. 

 

Another death by suicide within the space of 24 hours, another seeming off in its reasoning. This one was too convenient. The other made no sense motivation-wise. Both had Deadpool, a mercenary well known for his aptitude in murder, nearby. 

 

He always said he didn’t kill innocents, but really if the price was right would it stop him? He’d tried to kill Spider-man and Peter Parker on two separate occasions in the past. Granted, it was years ago, but what was stopping him falling back into old habits? 

 

But equally, what cause would someone have to pay that much for a mercenary to kill an old lady? He needed more solid proof before he did anything, but equally he didn’t want to leave the merc unattended to go about killing even more people. 

 

He needed help. He would have asked Brock, he owed him numerous favours by proxy for Venom, but he’d left the city months ago. He wasn’t really the type to lie low. 

 

Peter shut off the water as it started to chill, stepping out the tub. He could ask Natasha, but he had a feeling she would just capture and contain Deadpool regardless, based on his past record. 

 

Who else was good at investigations? He couldn’t afford most of them, and he didn’t really ask for favours in suit. He glared at himself in the foggy mirror, brushing his teeth. Trying to scrub away as much of his day as possible. 

 

He could do the investigation, but asking someone to babysit the merc with a mouth was a far larger favour than he was comfortable asking for. He was a lot of work, annoying at the best of times, and you couldn’t afford to relax around the guy thanks to his violent mood swings. No, he was the best candidate for that job, thanks to his Spidey-sense at least lending him a little warning. 

 

He thought back to his old job at the Daily Bugle. There were a couple people that owed Peter Parker a favour. He was always dropping stuff last minute to help out taking photos, providing cover for Jameson. He wasn’t too sure how many of them were left, staff turnover was pretty high and he hadn’t bothered to stay in touch. 

 

He spat in the sink, rinsing away the minty foam and wandering over to his laptop with a ratty towel hanging round his waist. He should be able to find some of them through his mutual friends on Facebook. 

 

After resetting his password to get in the damn thing, resolutely ignoring the memories pop up that would undoubtedly cause him pain, he got to work tracking down help. 

 

After a few hours, the guy he ended up contacting was Jeremy Palmer. All his work had been gritty reveals of secret societies, edgy pieces on politicians emails, the kind of crap that had gotten Brock a huge fan base and fired. But he wrote stuff smartly, seemed to have a knack for targeting those who were brought to justice just before he posted his work. 

 

Or he made it happen. 

 

Either way, he was also the fastest to accept Peter’s friend request and had the most innocuous timeline. Didn’t share his own work, or any news really. Posted animal videos and rare shots of food fed over from Insta. 

 

Peter couldn’t really remember much about him, so he was unsure what reception he’d get calling in a favour. He took a deep breath and bit the bullet.

 

**\- Hey dude-**

 

No. Wait.

 

**\- Hi Jeremy. See you’re still working at the Bugle?**

 

Right. Cool. That’s… Natural? He jolted as a message pinged in.

 

**> Yeah, I know haha. You been doing good? Still photographing supers?**

 

Oh. He remembered him. That was… unexpected. 

 

**\- I’m good, thanks. Working as a scientist now, not much chance to photograph. I miss it sometimes… But maybe not the environment.**

 

**> Lol yeah Jameson’s still an asshole.**

 

Peter snorted, he had been trying to be subtle. But he’d said it. 

 

**\- Good to hear some things never change :P**

 

Peter hesitated before typing fast.

 

**\- Listen, sorry this isn’t completely innocent. I was actually hoping to ask for a favour.**

 

He chewed on his thumbnail as he watched the three dots appear on screen. 

 

**> Ah, I do owe you one. What you need?**

 

Peter sighed in relief, still a little on edge about the size of the favour. But it could end up being a good story for Jeremy. 

 

**\- I need your investigation skills. There’s been a couple of suicides recently, but I have a feeling they’re hits being put out by someone. Unsure how to proceed?**

 

**> Any ideas who?**

 

Peter paused, biting his lip, before continuing to type slower than before.

 

**\- Not really, just a gut feeling.**

 

**> Well, that’s some juicy stuff, Parker. But what are you getting out of this?**

 

Peter frowned, hesitated a little on the truth. Call it paranoia from being Spider-man, but he still hated sharing too much about himself.

 

**\- Uhh, peace of mind?**

 

**> Ha, you are one of a kind. Need more people like you. **

 

Peter flushed a little. He was just being decent, that wasn’t so unusual. Most people were caring. 

 

His eyes flicked back to the screen at another ping.

 

**> Send me the details to my email. ** [ **J.palmer@daily.bugle.com** ](mailto:J.palmer82@daily.bugle.com)

 

Peter felt his shoulders relax. One less thing on his plate. He typed out a quick thanks before pausing. Now he had to figure out how to keep tabs on Deadpool. 

 

The computer pinged with another reply.

 

**> :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool? Being suspicious? It's more likely than u think.

He found himself tailing Deadpool after managing to track him down five days later. Well, he followed the signs of chaos along the rooftops, before finally locating Deadpool buying the stock of an entire taco truck. Literally. Peter wrinkled his nose in horror, disgust, and a faint respect from the 14 year old boy that still lingered somewhere in his hindbrain.

 

“You know”, The merc’s cheerful tone rang up to Peter without the man turning from his fifteenth taco, “I bought enough for two. But if you wanna keep brooding up there like a man with a fetish for bats, I can and will eat your share.” 

 

Deadpool kept arguing with himself that no, he was pretty sure he was right on the fetish thing, when Peter hopped down in front of him.

 

“How long were you going to pretend not to see me?” 

 

The merc snorted, pushing a greasy bag his way, “I thought you knew by now I can sense dat ass from thirty feet. And I have a sixth sense for the ol’ red and blue, but you’re the only one that it’s not just my gun, I  _ am  _ happy to see you, sweet cheeks.” 

 

Peter frowned, grumbling even as he accepted the food. Hey, don’t judge him! He couldn’t afford to turn down a free meal. Being hungry had become a part of his identity even before he put on the mask and became Spider-man. 

 

He tried to fight against his trained reaction to ignore the merc with the mouth as he bit into the heavenly flavours.

 

“-So I’m pretty glad I got Dopinder’s cousin to agree to make Mexican food, as otherwise I may have had to kill myself and everyone around me. In that order.”

 

Peter winced at the casual suicide threat, Deadpool barreling on in his babbling.

 

“I mean, I’d come back so maybe that isn’t so big a threat. I need something higher impact-”

 

“Higher impact than murder?” Peter stated drily before flinching again. He really shouldn’t be talking so casually about killing to someone he suspected was murdering innocent people. Well, people he assumes are innocent. Was this bad investigation etiquette? He learned most of it off that show Hannibal, but maybe that wasn’t a great starting point.

 

Deadpool nodded along, oblivious, “I mean, I know killing to you is a big deal, but all the cool kids are threatening it these days. You ever go on the internet? Rife with casual death threats. Gen Z is making this tired old bitch cool again.”

 

“Are as many of them following through as you?”

 

“I mean, no. Not that I know of, I’d lose my credibility as a service provider.”

 

“You don’t seem to care much either way.” Peter flinched a little. Damn it, man! Be subtle!

 

Deadpool just laughed, slapping him on the back. “Well, it would be the pot calling the kettle a whore, you know. Onto lighter news, why are you following me? Finally looking for a slice of the old Daddypool?”

 

The mask winked salaciously at Peter, who did his best to unlock his muscles. Keep it casual. Right. “Just making sure you’re staying out of trouble.” 

 

Deadpool stared blankly at him, Peter resisting the urge to pull his mask down to cover his mouth by shoving delicious, delicious Mexican food in it. 

 

Deadpool’s mask creased into a grin, “Aww, Spidey. You’re just checking up on lil’ ol’ me? I missed you too, buddy.”

 

Peter grunted as Deadpool slapped his shoulder, “Pretty sure that’s not what I said.”

 

“Well, feel free to tag along baby boy.” Deadpool stepped down from the ledge they’d been sat on, spinning to wink at Peter. “I’ll be sure to put on a show for you.” 

 

Peter belatedly realised Deadpool had guns in his hands. His spider senses flaring just as the merc spun and shot out the tires of a truck driving around the corner. Peter got up with a yell as Deadpool jumped up, launching himself through the windscreen. Was he holding up a peace sign? He was. What the fuck?

 

Peter thwipped himself up using the lamppost, shots ringing out from the van where it had ground to a halt in a concrete support for the bridge. He barely caught the limp body launched out the front of the van, webbing them from the lamppost he was sat atop. 

 

He grit his teeth, launching himself towards the hood of the van and shooting a ball of webbing into the back of the black and red mask. He heard the hoarse yell from the merc as he tugged hard and yanked the merc from the wreckage. 

 

He ignored how Deadpool fought his grasp, gripping into the back of his neck and his shoulder as he pushed him onto the hood. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter yelled, having to stamp down into Deadpool’s back to keep the merc pinned. 

 

The pinned man just laughed, rough. “Just a little job, Spidey. Look what these lovely ladies brought us.”

 

Peter pressed down harder, “What? You need to have a good fucking reason for doing this, or I swear-”

 

“Oh my god! Look in the van, Spidey.”

 

Peter grit his teeth, webbing the other man in place before turning back to the van. There had only been one other driver, a young man with lank hair, passed out on the wheel and bleeding badly from one arm. Peter webbed the wound carefully before climbing over the top of the van to open the back. 

 

He gasped and stumbled back. 

 

“Baby boy? You may wanna let me outta this before this party really blows up. Pretty sure they have some buddies with a remote, reminds me of an ex girlfriend-”

 

The van only held one package, a clearly homemade bomb. Peter pulled himself back to reality, he could probably figure the device out. But if what Deadpool said is true, who knows how long he’ll have? 

 

He quietly cursed, going back to where the merc lay with his cheek pressed to the metal. 

 

“Am I allowed out of time out now?” Deadpool whined, wiggling. “I was real good, no one’s dead! And I can do  _ so  _ much good for you baby boy.”

 

Peter ignored how Deadpool’s rough voice dropped suggestively. 

 

“No one is dead  _ yet _ .” Peter sprayed the bonds with his special formula he’d had to develop after a trying time when he’d accidentally webbed his pants on and couldn’t pee for hours. 

 

“Thanks shnookums.” Deadpool jumped to his feet, pressing his face to Peter’s cheek before he could react. But just as fast as he’d been there, he was running across the van’s roof with loud clanging steps to swing through the doorway and deal with the bomb. 

 

Peter ran back to nervously watch, Deadpool chattering to himself with the same cheer as he’d had not ten minutes ago stuffing his face by the side of the road.

 

“With all this YouTube shit the youth are just getting sloppy with their bomb building. I ever tell you about the time I turned an MRI machine into a functioning bomb? Now that was finesse.”

 

Peter’s leg jittered, “Don’t we need to hurry this up? Before they detonate it?” 

 

Deadpool looked over his shoulder, “Oh, don’t worry baby boy. Already fixed that in the first two seconds. Just scavenging some of the parts. Between payments right now, you know? And figured you could enjoy the view.”

 

Peter scowled as Deadpool tittered, wiggling his ass. “For fuck’s sake. Of course you did. Well, I’m calling the police.” 

 

Peter resisted stepping too far away, wanting to keep an eye on where Deadpool had turned back to continue pulling the bomb to pieces, Peter pressing the concealed device which would ping his location and a brief code to describe the incident. 

 

Deadpool continued chattering to himself, appearing to pay no attention to his surroundings. 

 

After a few minutes, Peter could hear the sirens a few blocks over, still out of the human range of hearing. He knocked on the side of the van, not flinching as Deadpool whirled round with a knife already in hand.

 

“Uh, the police are on their way. Probably neater for them if you’re not here.”

 

Deadpool still stood hunched in the middle of the van. “You’re still here?”

 

Peter frowned, “What the hell is that meant to mean?”

 

“Well, usually you either fight me to bring me to justice or whatever, or you disappear pretty fast. Not used to you… Sticking around. Heh, pun unintended but wholly endorsed.”

 

Right. That was true. Fuck. 

 

Before he could worry about coming up with an excuse, Deadpool was walking past him and back on the street. “Not that I’m complainin’ about one of my all time faves choosing to hang out a little longer. Hey, you do autographs? I have a hell of a lot of Spider-man merch that would look great with your signature. Or with you wearing them.  _ Ooh _ -!”

 

“No.” Peter cut him off hastily, not liking where this was going. 

 

Deadpool continued, throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders and leading the way away from the scene, other arm gesticulating wildly. “Well, the audience will have to wait and see if we can persuade you. That’d make some great fanservice. And wank bank material. I mean, really, in a Venn diagram it’s just the Target symbol. Sexy stuff.”

 

Peter carefully extricated himself from the arm around his shoulders, doing his best to keep his mouth shut seeing as so far he’d managed to be anything but subtle. 

 

Deadpool stopped after several blocks, cocking his head at Peter. “Okay. Seriously, baby boy. How long you thinkin’ of tagging along? I get it, having a slow day, I’m a delight to be around. Free entertainment, right?”

 

Peter clenched his jaw against his retort. 

 

“Just my next stop was picking up my payment, and I’m pretty sure that ain’t your scene.”

 

That was probably true, but equally Deadpool was highly paranoid and now he would be way more alert for any sign of Peter following him. He’d been given the slip way too many times to allow him out of his sight. 

 

All he had to do was make it so the chance of the merc doing a similar thing again was as minimised as possible, hopefully he’d be able to see some kind of pattern fast enough for it to never happen again. If he was right.

 

He could feel the panic welling up at his need for an excuse, and he had just enough decision making skills present to know better than to reach for one in this state. The last time he’d tried that he’d told work that the blood on his clothes were just because the clothes ‘came like that’.

 

But he couldn’t really  _ not  _ have a reason… He’d have to just be… Careful with the truth. 

 

He drew himself up to his full height, crossing his arms. “I have to be with you.”

 

Deadpool gasped, clutching his heart. “A love confession? Spidey, it’s all going so fast.”

 

Peter flushed, glad for the mask. “What? No! This is just professional. I need to keep an eye out for you. Stop you causing trouble and… Watch your back.”

 

Deadpool squinted at him, humming and twisting to consider Peter where he stood stiff and ramrod straight in front of him. 

 

Finally the merc shrugged, continuing on his way. “Okay, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not since the incident where one bit my nose off.”

 

Peter’s own nose twitched in second hand discomfort. “What the hell did you do to get a horse to hurt you that bad?”

 

Deadpool pointed at him, “Hey! They are vicious creatures, Spidey!”

 

Peter rolled his eyes before he felt something sharp grind against his consciousness, a scream echoing through the streets. 

 

Deadpool paused to look back at Peter, amusement clear across his mask. “Alright, Lassie. Go do your hero shtick.” 

 

Peter frowned at Deadpool, torn. “You gonna come with me?”

 

Deadpool jumped, turning to look around him before a smile slowly built behind the mask. “You’re… Inviting me? This guy? To go crime fighting with you?” He froze, smile dropping. “Wait, why?”

 

“Does it matter?” Peter jerked as another scream rang out, “We need to go.”

 

Deadpool danced away from Peter’s reaching hands. “Listen, as much as I would love to skate fast and kick ass with my baby boy, now is not a great time. Real inconvenient for me-”

 

“Deadpool-” Peter growled, head jerking towards the screams on instinct. 

 

He turned back to grab the merc, only to find him gone. Peter scowled, cursing. 

 

That could have gone a lot better.

 

**

 

After a strenuous battle against Doc Ock, in which of course Peter won but no one was around to witness his witty one liner at the end of the battle, Peter webbed home. He was a little bruised, but as fights went he’d gotten off pretty damn lightly. 

 

He dropped his mask on his bed, moving over to his desk to check his computer only to freeze. One of the alerts he’d set up had gone off while he was out. Another suicide, female. Not far from where he’d been. 

 

“Dammit!” He growled, resisting the urge to break something. 

 

He took a few deep breaths, clenched fists shaking at his sides. He’d been one block over when he’d gone to fight Doc Ock, when he was still-

 

He froze. 

 

Tailing Deadpool. 

 

When he’d given him the slip. 

 

He swore again, unable to stop himself when he slammed his fist into the wall, but just able to pull the punch before it went clean through it. 

 

After managing to collect his unbridled anger into a more manageable acidic ball in the pit of his stomach, he pulled up the police records using the login he’d memorised all those years ago on a school trip. 

 

The news that greeted him was enough to pour ice down his spine, hand flying to his mouth as he backed away from the computer. 

 

That was Hernandez, lying in a pool of her own blood, kitchen knife by her side. He rushed to the bathroom, heaving out all the free food from earlier. A killer’s food, he reminded himself. Blood money. 

 

He spat, flushing the toilet with a clammy hand. 

 

This pretty much cemented his hunch, there was absolutely no way Hernandez would do this. He remembered her chatting to him as Peter about her own nieces and nephews, how she lit up. They went round every day she wasn’t working after school. 

 

His stomach roiled at the thought of them finding her like that. No way she would have chanced it, even if she was feeling that way. No matter how ill she may have been. 

 

Deadpool slipping away just before the time of death for Hernandez. Well, it wouldn’t be enough for the police, but it was enough for Peter. 

 

He sent a message to Jeremy.

 

**\- Got a lead, mercenary for hire. Deadpool.**

 

His eyes flicked across the screen. Jeremy would be better at finding the information, no doubt. 

 

**> Wow, this could be a huge story if you’re right! I haven’t found anything linking the deaths up until now, so glad at least one of us have a lead lol. How’d you do it? Maybe you should have been reporting too.**

 

Peter frowned, of course Jeremy wouldn’t remember Peter’s brief and disastrous stint as a reporter. Jameson had fired him twice over one article. When Peter refused to write a piece that was clearly just a defamation of character, he’d been permanently demoted back down to photographer. 

 

He’d found his current role as a research assistant at Stark Industries soon after. 

 

He typed out a response.

 

**\- Just not for me I guess… let me know when u get anything.**

 

He closed his laptop to go shower. Time to track down Deadpool.

 

With how hard it had been to locate the merc this time, and the death still sitting heavy on Peter’s shoulders, he knew he had to be more proactive. 

After unsuccessful attempts at hacking into Shield’s files on Deadpool, at 4AM Peter fell to craigslist in a fit of desperation. He typed up an ad for someone with special skills to ‘intimidate’ an adversary for him. He prayed he was vague enough to avoid arrest, closed his laptop, and passed the fuck out. 

 

**

 

Peter woke up at half 7 to a throat that felt like it was stuck to itself. He shuffled over to his kitchenette, shoving his mouth under the tap to gulp straight from the source. 

 

He returned to his laptop, opening it up and rubbing sleep crust off his eyes. He froze at the list of messages. 

 

He started clicking through them. A lot of ads. Some obvious prostitutes, some less obvious prostitutes, some guy trying to buy a lamp, a couple death threats, a request for nudes, several dick pics. 

 

Peter sighed, deleting each useless lead and marking others to investigate later as Spider-man. 

 

He paused at one. A simple request to meet, but appeared to be serious. He chewed his lip. It was a public place, if Google Maps was to be believed. Safe enough as Peter Parker. 

 

He sent a confirmation, gathering his shit and changing into a different T-shirt. His hand hovered over his suit. He finally tucked it into the hidden compartment of his backpack before leaving to find Sister Margaret’s. 

 

**

 

There were rough bars, and then there was wherever the hell Peter found himself in. From the outside, it looked fairly ordinary, the neighbourhood was dodgy looking but had never really cropped up as a problem area on the police scanners. 

 

The inside was full of highly suspicious individuals. Scarred, armed, muscled, clearly trained or with a near feral energy. He was fairly sure he spotted a couple of aliens hidden beneath hoods and beanie hats. 

 

“You lost, Twinkie boy?” The barkeep called out, nose wrinkling to readjust the thick glasses. 

 

Peter squinted at him as he wandered closer, the face sparking off something in his memory. He snapped his fingers, “Jack, right? Jack Ha-”

 

“Hey, shut the fuck up, man.” Jack hissed, spinning to make sure no one was listening. 

 

Peter’s eyes widened, heart jumping a little. Of course, you’d need to be careful working around these kind of people. 

 

Jack turned back to Peter, “Don’t go by that name here. If the guys knew, I’d have to suffer the puns for the rest of their lives.” 

 

Peter hesitated at that, Jack looked to be the least threatening figure here. Either he felt comfortable because Peter misjudged the situation, unlikely by the ringing of his Spider senses, or because Jack was also dangerous. 

 

Jack spun a glass round his hand, “Sorry, I don’t know who the fuck you are. Point still stands, you look lost there cupcake.” 

 

Peter tried his best not to wince as Jack started wiping the glass with the filthy rag tossed over his shoulder. “I’m here to meet someone, actually.”

 

Jack nodded, “Fair. You gonna buy something or just take up space in my fine establishment?”

 

Peter’s eyes flicked to the glass in Jack’s hands. “Uh, a bottle of water would be good.”

 

Jack snorted, rolling his eyes and wandering down the bar. “Sure, princess.”

 

Peter’s eye twitched a little at the nicknames, reminded of Deadpool. But Jack was completely the wrong build and height, and from what he’d seen of Deadpool’s mouth was nowhere near scarred enough. 

 

“Dopinder!” Jack yelled across the bar, “Where the fuck are you, you little cuck?”

 

A small Indian man ran up, clutching a broom. “Yes, sir? Are my more nefarious services required at this time?”

 

Jack shoved an empty plastic bottle in the man’s hands, jerking his thumb behind him. “Yeah sure, real big mission. Go get our customer his water.”

 

Dopinder’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he saluted, “I will not fail you, sir.”

 

Jack sighed, “Yeah, sure buddy. Get the fuck going.”

 

Peter’s eyes followed as Dopinder ran out back, taking the broom with him. 

 

Jack’s eyes flicked over Peter, “I feel obliged to tell you the guy’s married. You’re kinda pretty though, could probably introduce you to his wife. She might let you fuck him.”

 

Peter jerked, “What? No! I’m not gay.”

 

Jack snorted, “Sure. Hey, no judgement here my guy.”

 

Something smashed at the other side of the bar, Jack spinning to yell across the bar, “I’m coming you ungrateful fucks! Jesus!” 

 

He wandered away, grabbing a bottle of what looked like pure isopropanol as he made his way over to a shadowed corner, grumbling the whole way. 

 

Peter was shocked, Jack had always been a pretty straight-laced nerd in school. He just mixed in a slightly different circle to Peter. It seemed crazy he would end up here. 

 

Peter shook himself from his thoughts as Dopinder reappeared, presenting his bottle of water. Peter accepted it, scrambling for the few social skills he had. This was so much easier with the mask. 

 

“So, Dopinder, right?”

 

Dopinder grinned, nodding. “Yes, sir. That is myself, how may I be of service?”

 

Why was the guy acting like a butler? 

 

“No, just, I’ve been told someone with that name knows that mercenary, Deadpool.” Peter hesitated, blurting out in a panic, “I’m a fan.”

 

He internally winced. 

 

Dopinder just lit up, “Oh, yes. I know Mr Pool. I completely sympathise, he is indeed very cool. The way he can just kill so many people with so little effort.”

 

Peter gaped a little. “And you… Find that attractive. About him.”

 

Dopinder nodded again, lost in his own gushing. “Oh, yes. I have only killed one person, and it was an accident. But I hope someday to be as prolific as Mr Pool is. I’ve been asking him to train me, but he only lets me drive the car.”

 

Peter tucked away a note to keep an eye on this guy for later, even though if anything he seemed to quiet his Spidey senses’ grumbling. 

 

“So, you’d say you’re pretty close?”

 

“Oh yes, we are bosom buddies.” Dopinder looked far away suddenly, “We would be the best of buddies, were it not for the Spider-man. Mr Pool made a whole hashtag for their friendship. I can only wish for this kind of acclaim.”

 

Peter shoved the rest aside to unpack later, “So I’ve not noticed him around for a while. Has he left town?”

 

Dopinder pouted, glancing at his phone. “No, he is still showing as in his apartment. He’s been there for quite a while, but I imagine he is having his alone time. He has that every now and then, and I have been clearly instructed to leave him alone during these times. I have learnt my lesson, Geeta would very much like me to keep the other testicle intact.” 

 

So he was in the city. Peter’s eye twitched as he clicked… How much did this seemingly unassuming man know about the merc? 

 

“What do you mean he’s showing in his apartment?”

 

“Oh, he has a tracker he’s tuned for me, to make it easier for me to pick him up from his jobs. It’s lodged up his rectum. It’s all on this app”, Dopinder spun to show him before clinging the phone to himself. “Oh. That was stupid. You may not be who you say. Mr Pool has told me about this before, he said it is gullible.”

 

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t see anything”, Peter lied through his teeth. A normal person wouldn’t have seen anything. He’d instantly memorised the location. “Um, it doesn’t look like who I’m waiting for is turning up, can I pay for this?”

 

Dopinder frowned, “It is just tap water, sir.”

 

Peter’s eyes flicked over to where Jack stood arguing with a tall woman. “Right well, just in case.” He slapped down five dollars and left. 

 

He had a killer to catch.

 

**

 

Peter suited up in an alleyway before making his way to the location. He’d not been hovering outside for more than a minute when the crack of a gunshot came from inside. Instinct took over, swinging himself up to the right area of the apartment block, already feeling clammy at the silence from his Spider senses. 

 

He instantly spots the right place, blood splatters clear across the hardwood floors he can see through the window. 

 

His fingers stick to the glass, shoving the window open and sliding inside. 

 

“Hello?” He calls out, already stumbling through. The place smells rank. Rotting. 

 

There’s no answer, of course. Peter stamps down the jitters in his muscles as he moves through the apartment. 

 

He pushes open the second door to a man sat on a chair, the window behind him casting him in silhouette. 

 

Peter rushes forward, already noticing the glint of the gun by the man’s side. The man’s face covered in blood. 

 

Peter curses, pressing his fingers to find a pulse. Barely there, fluttering weakly and irregular. He checks over the man’s head, starting to talk in the hopes of getting him back up. 

 

“Hey, can you hear me? Do you need me to call someone? Jesus, please be okay.” There were no wounds Peter could find, but just as he went to check the base of his skull, the man gasped and jerked forward, slamming into Peter’s jaw. 

 

Peter stumbled back, clutching his face. 

 

The man looked up at him, grin suddenly spreading across his face. “Oh, hey Spidey. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

The voice was all gravel, as if from disuse. Peter’s hands hovered in front of him, “Okay, yeah, that’s me. But you need to calm down, sir, you seem to have been wounded pretty badly. There may be some brain trauma.”

 

The man snorted, “Wow, not been called sir in a hot minute. I’m just fine, Spidey. It’s only been a hot minute. Maybe a week. Well, I did just shoot myself in the head, my memory would suck ass.” His eyes stood stark against the blood still covering his face, Peter’s racing mind finally putting two and two together. “Don’t recognise the love of your life, your gal pal Deadpool?”

 

**

 

Wade re-alived feeling re-energized and with Spider-man in his apartment. What a time to be alive. 

 

Oh, wait, Spider-man was talking. “Sorry, what’s that sweet cheeks? Finding it hard to focus on the words behind your dulcet tones.”

 

Spider-man’s eyes squinted in annoyance, cute! “I said, is this what you’ve been doing since you last saw me?”

 

“What? Killing myself? The old suicide. Talking a long walk off a short cliff? Un-aliving? Since I last saw you, sure. That I can remember. Why, how long has it been? A while?” Wade whistled, slapping his thighs as he stood up. “That’d explain my huge food boner right now, I am starving!”

 

Spider-man jerked out of the way as Wade strode out of the room toward his kitchen. Wow, what a dump. He didn’t remember leaving it like this. Then again, he is still regenerating the ol’ noggin. 

 

“You want some pancakes baby boy?” He spun a pan off the rack.

 

“What? Deadpool, this isn’t the time-”

 

Wade cried out in disgust, “Please. Wade unless I’m in the suit. Ooh, or darling. Or sweetness. Or any petname, really. I’m not picky.”

 

Spider-man froze, “You’re telling me your secret identity… Just like that.”

 

Wade snorted, going to his fridge in search of eggs. “It’s not really a secret, honeybunch. If you wanted to know, you could have asked.”

 

He frowned at the use by date on his eggs. He picked up his phone, “Take-out it is. You want some, baby boy?”

 

“So. You’ve been…” Spider-man hesitated, Wade muttering to himself as he ordered double everything regardless. “Killing yourself. Repeatedly. Why?”

 

Wade smirked, “Well, I’m pretty fucked up, baby boy. And it’s not like it ever sticks, so that’s why I sometimes need to try again.” He paused, frowning at the ceiling, “Though, usually I only need to give it the ol’ one-two before I’m feelin’ just as dandy as always. Huh. Wonder why this one took so long.” 

 

Wade shrugged, thumbing in his PayPal information to finish off his order. 

 

Spider-man leaned forward, “Feeling guilty about anything?”

 

Wade glanced up at him, brow raised. Well, would be if he had any left. “Apart from the usual being a sad excuse for a human being wrapped in a topological map that’s gone through the shredder? Nah, not really.”

 

_ Nice, a five syllable word. Real impressive. _

 

Wade scowled at his phone, of course Yellow would come back online before less important things like say, his memories.

 

_ I’m here too.  _

 

“Fuck you, White.” Wade growled, jumping a little when he realised Spider-man was getting into his space. Wade grinned, “Ooh, Spidey, is this the start of our beautiful romance? If so, I’m losing some bets, but you know what? You’re worth it.”

 

Spider-man jabbed a finger into Wade’s chest, and owie. That actually hurt. “I know what you’ve been doing,  _ Wade _ .”

 

“Cocaine? Marijuana? Look, I swear I thought that meth was just a menthol cigarette. The first time.”

 

Spider-man growled, stepping even closer. Wade stayed put.

 

_ Ooh, Spider-man warmth. Can we store this for winter? I’m getting the warm fuzzies. _

 

_ Guys? I think he’s seriously mad. _

 

“I know about the innocent people you’ve been killing. Making it look like they did it themselves. I don’t know why, but I am literally one call away from getting you put in a maximum security isolation facility-”

 

“Hey! Don’t threaten me with Bottom Storage! I’m offended, Spidey. I thought you trusted me more than this. Well, okay, no I didn’t. But you usually  _ do  _ trust me more than this, for some reason.”

 

“So you’re claiming you didn’t do it?”

 

Wade pouted, wracking his brain. It did sound that way, but it was more of a gut feeling. “I mean, I have had the strict policy of no killing innocent people for like a year or something? I’m not great with timeline management. But still! I mean, unless the price was right.”

 

Spider-man growled low, Wade’s nips doing that little tingle they did when he knew he was probably in danger. “If the price was right? You’re fucking disgusting.”

 

Wade nodded, “Yeah, true. But hey, I know for a fact no-one in the galaxy can afford the right price. I am an expense few can afford anyway.”

 

_ Wasn’t us.  _

 

_ For sure, we’d at least remember. Even if you didn’t.  _

 

“Yeah, like they said. Boxes would know, they said I didn’t do it.” Wade smiled in triumph, the tense line of Spider-man not budging in front of him. 

 

“I don’t trust you.”

 

“Probably a wise choice. But do you believe me?”

 

Spider-man kept glaring at him through the mask. A heavy pause before he admitted, “I don’t know.”

 

Wade’s heart panged. 

 

_ He has no reason to believe us.  _

 

_ He is only our friend in our fantasies.  _

 

It still hurt, despite how it logically made sense. Stupid emotions. Stupid brain. 

 

“Well, I’ll just have to prove it, then. What you got on me so far?”

 

Spider-man scoffed, finally stepping back. “Why would I tell you that?”

 

“Okay”, Wade said slowly, leaning back against the counter. “So am I at least allowed to know who it is I’ve supposed to have killed?”

 

The other man hesitated, gears clearly turning. Wade let him have his time, keeping his face carefully neutral. 

 

“Okay. The last victim was called Sofia Hernandez.”

 

Wade didn’t bother keeping his emotion off his face, he truly didn’t know her. He felt a distant sense of relief at the lack of recognition. 

 

_ Hey! Trust us more, you asshole. We told you, you didn’t fucking do it! _

 

“No idea who she is.”

 

“So you killed someone without even knowing their name?”

 

“What? I mean I have before, but no! Don’t twist my-”

 

The doorbell rang. Wade growled, pointing at Spider-man. “Don’t think you’re getting away with that.”

 

Spider-man spluttered, “Me? You’re the kill- Wait. You can’t answer the door looking like that.”

 

Wade squinted, looking down at himself. Right, the blood. He shrugged, “They know which guy to send, I’m a regular.” 

 

Spider-man ran up behind him, Wade looking back in question. 

 

“I’m not letting you slip away again.”

 

Wade rolled his eyes. Right. “As if just tailing me would stop me, but whatever makes you happy, baby boy.”

 

**

 

Peter was embarrassed and torn. Embarrassed he hadn’t clocked it was Deadpool straight away, the scarring, voice, and body build. Along with his location. Peter had been busy panicking about a dead man. 

 

Torn as… He kind of believed the man when he said he didn’t do it. Despite the list of coincidences and his general danger level… He had this air of genuine truth around what he was saying. 

 

Not that Peter hadn’t been caught out before. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Never again. 

 

The proof, however little there was, all pointed to the man currently stuffing his face with chimichangas on a blood splattered sofa. 

 

Blue eyes flicked up to his, mouth spitting out chunks of masticated meat. “You want some, baby boy?”

 

Peter looked pointedly at the gore caked into the walls, blood coagulated between the floorboards. His stomach clenched. “I’m good.”

 

The other man shrugged, “Suit yourself.” 

 

Either he was innocent, or he really was a monster being able to continue acting normal after what he’d done. 

 

Well, he mentally corrected, aside from repeatedly killing himself. 

 

He felt extremely uncomfortable about that, his need to keep the suspect at arms length warring with his innate need to comfort someone so clearly unwell. 

 

How many times must he have done it? Judging by the state of the apartment… Peter shuddered, pushing the thought away as his stomach tried to claw up his throat. 

 

The other man groaned, heaving to his feet. Peter quickly jumped up.

 

Deadpool grinned, “You gonna join me in the shower, baby boy?” 

 

Peter hesitated, frowning. “No… But leave the door open. I want to make sure you don’t try to run.”

 

Wade winked, “Lookin’ for a show, Webs. Well, I can provide.” 

 

Peter sensed any response would just further encourage Deadpool, choosing instead to step aside as the merc marched to the bathroom singing some kind of yodel. 

 

It was hard to find a balance between not looking and ensuring that Deadpool never left his sight. The other man seemed to have no qualms over being fully visible and completely naked, even going so far as to bend over to pick up the towel only to sling it over his shoulders. Peter tried to focus on his scarred face rather than anywhere else. At least it was less horrifying without the blood covering it. 

 

Deadpool whistled low, looking around his apartment. “Wow, I really did make a major effort to redecorate as one if those Japanese horror film sets.” He snapped his fingers, pointing at Peter. “Hey! Reckon I found a good side job.” 

 

Peter frowned, the merc clearly not feeling or caring about the weight of the situation. Maybe he’d just forgotten-

 

“So!” Deadpool clapped his hands, “Time to clear my name. Where should we start?”

 

Right. Not forgotten, just not caring. “You mean prove that it is you that’s been doing this? I could just let you try again, catch you in the act. But I don’t like using innocent people as bait. Or anyone as bait.”

 

Deadpool nodded, “Makes sense, but what are you planning then?” 

 

Peter hesitated. What was he planning? Really, he’d been kind of hoping that the man would just confess. “Well”, he began slowly, “If I can figure out why you would do it. That would be enough evidence with what I already have to call Black Widow.”

 

“Irrelevant, didn’t do it. So I show I had no reason to do it, we all good?” Deadpool didn’t wait for his answer, already scrolling through his phone. “Hernandez, Hernandez. Oof, police. We got bad blood with them, White. True, I don’t think I’ve killed any in this universe. Still, doesn’t look good to baby boy, does it? I mean we don’t know her, no grudges for her. Ooh, you’re right, we could show him the book.”

 

Deadpool lurched to his feet, waving Peter down. “One sec, sweetness. I’ll be right back.”

 

Peter still stood to watch as the merc strode into the bedroom, rooting around drawers and throwing various My Little Pony memorabilia and weaponry to the floor. Finally, he yelled in triumph and returned to Peter’s side with a battered black notebook covered in stickers he had a feeling were holding the ragged thing together. 

 

“So”, Deadpool leaned closer, shoulder bumping into Peter and causing his skin to crawl in displeasure. He indicated the notebook he now had open, along with a list of names. “This is my lil’ list of grudges. Just gets hard to keep up, you know? So unless it’s a job, these are the only people I’d go outta my way to kill. Unless it’s an accident. But from the death report, this was more of a purposeful job, right?”

 

Peter jerked his head in agreement, feeling a little nauseous at the merc’s closeness. The potential murderer’s closeness. He jerked his hand in a wordless request for the book, which Deadpool relinquished with no resistance, thankfully. 

 

Peter flicked through the pages, some with suspicious rust coloured staining he was trying his best to ignore. He frowned at the page, “Why is ‘The Hand’ underlined so many times?”

 

Wade squinted, pointing at Peter’s face. “They know what they did.”

 

“And does this say ‘Frankenstein’? Like the book?”

 

“Yeah, I know. And just to confuse it,  _ pretty  _ sure I mean the monster?”

 

Peter shook his head, best not to let himself be sucked into Deadpool’s world. The merc was being truthful though, none of the victims were in the book. He handed the book back, “This still doesn’t prove you just chose not to write them down to cover yourself.”

 

Deadpool scoffed, shoving the notebook in his back pocket. “You vastly overestimate my recall function. White says I forgot my own daughter-”

 

“You have a daughter?”

 

Deadpool flapped a hand, “Not in this universe. Point stands, I got too much shit on my plate and universes to deal with to be expected to remember who I gotta settle a score with. I don’t even remember why I got a score to settle with The Hand. I’m  _ hoping  _ they know what they did, ‘coz I sure as hell don’t.” 

 

There really… Was little hope for this man, was there? 

 

Peter huffed, frown deepening. “Well, they could still be hits you got asked to do. You say no one could afford you, but what if someone did?”

 

Deadpool pouted, shrugging. “Fair. We can go check. C’mon.”

 

Peter hesitated as Deadpool started shrugging on a fur coat, “What.”

 

Deadpool glanced up from where he was tucking a knife into his boot. “I said, let’s go check. I get all my jobs from one guy, we can just ask.”

 

“But he’d just lie for you.”

 

Deadpool laughed at him, wiping away a tear. “Ah, good one.” He slapped him on the back, “C’mon, you giving me a lift, or we walking?”

 

Peter hesitated, he’d rather not be that close to the other man, but his ability to slip away unseen was worrying. “We’ll walk.”

 

The merc sagged in disappointment, muttering something about “getting to ride that ass some day.” 

 

**

 

Wade led them both to Sister Margaret's, which Peter guessed made sense on how well they seemed to know the merc when he’d visited, but also highlighted how lucky he was to stumble upon the place.

 

“Yo Weasel, get your pasty ass over here!” 

 

The blonde man grumbled his way over, Peter looking on bemused. So Jack went by Weasel now? Odd choice. Though, he guessed he went by Spider-Man, which was hardly creative. 

 

Weasel wrinkled his nose, squinting out his glasses at Peter. “Well damn, didn’t expect Spidey to be the one to bring you in. Sent this cute nerdy kid round to pick you up earlier.”

 

Wait. Was he referring to Peter? But wasn’t the info from Dopinder-?

 

“What? You sent some civilian to my place?”

 

Weasel shrugged, “Figured if you got laid you’d stop being so bummed out.”

 

“I was depressed, you ignorant slut.” Deadpool grabbed a bottle of whisky from behind the bar, the other man slapping it from his hand and catching it before it hit the counter. 

 

“Anyway, here for a confirmation. Ol’ Twinkletoes over here wants to know if I killed Sofia Hernandez.”

 

Weasel’s watery blue eyes flicked to Peter, “Nope, been no hits out on her. Can’t pay him for what he hasn’t done.”

 

Deadpool spun to Peter, grinning wide, “See, told ya!”

 

“Wait, you were trying to prove he didn’t do it? I was just making sure you didn’t get paid by the Spider-Man look-alike. He definitely did it, look at him. Of course he did.”

 

The merc scowled, flapping his hand, “First answers only, thank you friend.”

 

“Spider-Man look-alike?” Peter mumbled. Why did people only believe him when he was stuck to a wall or swinging from a web? Did the suit look this cheap? 

 

He tuned back into the two men arguing. “I was just hoping it was the real Spider-Man so you guys could fight and maybe you’d actually stay dead this time so I can win some money.”

 

“I don’t kill-”

 

“Spidey doesn’t kill-” 

 

Deadpool gasped, “Jinx! Double jinx, personal padlock!” 

 

Peter scowled at the other man.

 

The merc practically vibrated. “Okay, Spidey Spidey Spidey. I miss your voice already. Speak to me!” 

 

“You must have realised this isn’t my real voice by now?” 

 

The other man’s hand flew to his mouth in faux shock. “Say it ain’t so! Meh, I’m sure you still sound sexy. You got a lisp?” 

 

Peter ignored him, turning to Jack- Weasel. Whatever. “So have there been any hits on Sofia Hernandez or not?” 

 

Weasel rolled his eyes, grumbling. “No, I guess not. Wade’s right, you really are no fun.”

 

The merc spluttered, “I never said no fun!” He spun to face Peter, “I just said you often put a  _ dampener  _ on fun. Totally different.”

 

Peter barely glanced at the merc, twisting to show Weasel his phone. “How about these two women?” 

 

Weasel whistled low, “No way anyone had the balls to put out a hit on Willam Grace’s girl.”

 

“What?” The merc seized Peter’s phone, awkwardly dragging Peter’s arm with it where his fingers stuck on instinct. Deadpool cried out in disappointment, “No! Not Julia! She taught me how to paint those tiny unicorns on my thumbnail.”

 

Weasel snorted, “You mean those things that look like albino turds?” 

 

“No, those are tiny Weasel portraits, just for you boo.”

 

Weasel flipped him the bird, Deadpool blowing a kiss. 

 

Right. So Deadpool hadn’t been contracted to kill them. Or had them in his stupid kill book. It still didn’t necessarily prove anything but the man’s worrying knack to hold a grudge for no reason. 

 

Peter chewed the inside of his cheek, cogs turning. He mostly muttered to himself, thinking aloud, “I still don’t think these deaths are what they seem.”

 

The other men stopped bickering, Deadpool leaning against the bar rather than across it now. “I can help.”

 

Weasel snorted, the merc responding defensively, “What? I can! I’m good at this stuff.”

 

“Killing? Sure”, Weasel conceded, “But I do all your investigation shit. I’m the brains of this operation-”

 

“Which would make me the beauty-” The merc fluttered his eyelids. 

 

“You’re barely the brawn, he’s almost a twink-” A hand thrown in Peter’s direction, “-and can beat you one handed.”

 

“I  _ know _ ”, Deadpool sighed dreamily, smiling wide as he eyed Peter. 

 

“Sorry if I don’t trust you,'' Peter said deadpan, utterly remorseless, “I think I’ll have to pass.”

 

The merc pouted, “Aww, come on. I’ll get Weasel to help-”

 

“To hell you will.”

 

“- And I  _ am  _ good at finding people, no matter what the trash ferret says.” 

 

“Hey, fuck you.”

 

“Where’s Dopinder? He’ll back me up.”

 

“Probably off kissing someone else’s ass, fuck if I know.” 

 

Peter still didn’t feel completely settled on the merc not being the prime suspect. He fit the bill, Peter had been fooled before, and really the coincidences were pretty daunting. He didn’t want to get stuck on a dead end, but he didn’t want to dismiss his only lead either. 

 

But Dopinder gave him an idea.

 

“The dates of death.”

 

Deadpool blinked at him, stopped mid-flow. “¿Qué?”

 

“The dates and the times they were killed. If you can prove where you were, I’ll believe you.”

 

The other man groaned, flopping back against the bar, “We’re still on this? Fuck I hardly remember shit.”

 

“Dopinder’s app.” Peter smiled triumphantly. 

 

Deadpool’s face screwed up, the scarring wrinkling his face further. “Grindr’s gonna help?”

 

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes. “He has a tracker app for you. We just look through the history-” 

 

“It has that option?”

 

“It’s pretty easy to find through the caches and shit. Especially coz that stupid fuck keeps all his apps running all the time.” Weasel shrugged, “And if not, the company sells the data. Just hack into their records.”

 

“Huh…” Deadpool squinted, “Should I be worried they’re selling my location to whoever’s buying?”

 

At the same time, Peter said “probably” while Weasel snorted “why? They gonna kill you?”

 

Deadpool nodded, “Awesome, thanks for clearing that up guys.”

 

“So”, Peter prompted. “You wanna be cleared of the blame? Call Dopinder.”

 

Deadpool shrugged, already tapping into his phone. “Sure. And then I can get him to back me up to Weasel. What was it for again?” He barely paused, “Eh. Doesn’t matter. And! Done. You want a drink, baby boy?”

 

“No... Thanks.”

 

The merc shrugged, “Hey, suit yourself. Heh, get it. Super suit.”

 

“Weak”, Weasel grumbled, sliding over a beer and leaving them alone. 

 

Peter stiffened as he realised he was left alone with the merc, the other man just easily sitting at the bar and slumping to lean against his palm. He watched as the merc began absently picking at the rough skin by his mouth.

 

Peter felt his eye twitch, “Please stop doing that.”

 

The other man’s eyes widened, mouth quirking, “Thought you’d be happy for the quiet, me shutting up.”

 

“I meant the skin picking.”

 

“Oh,'' Peter noted how the gleam in the merc’s eyes dulled a little, smile still in place. “Yeah, fair. Pretty gross, right? Sorry. Shoulda worn the mask.”

 

Peter frowned, stopping himself from tapping against the bar, choosing instead to plant himself on the seat beside the other man. “Nah, just had a friend that used to do it. Really bad for your skin.”

 

The other man’s laugh had a slightly bitter edge, “Yeah, doubt it’ll make much difference at this point.”

 

Peter exhaled hard through his nose, turning to look away from the other man. Trying his best to stamp down his empathy. “I guess. But it won’t help either.”

 

He saw how the merc’s brows quirked, eyes flicking to consider Peter. “Touché. If it bothers you, baby boy, I’ll try not to.” He sniffed hard, taking a swig from his beer. 

 

He put the bottle down, Peter seeing how his muscles tensed and released, jaw working. It wasn’t long before the merc cracked, “Just, find it hard to keep quiet. That’s kinda what I do to distract, you know? Otherwise it’s just a stream of consciousness. Trying my best not to talk too much-”

 

“Why?” Peter challenged, turning back to consider him. “Scared you’ll accidentally confess?”

 

Deadpool’s mouth twitched up again, glitter in his eyes returning a little. “Can’t confess to what I didn’t do, nice try though. Just don’t wanna cut myself off from one of the last supers who can actually stand me.”

 

Peter saw the vulnerability in the other man’s eyes, betraying the still playful smile on his face. He wondered briefly if the man was this expressive beneath his mask, a whole other layer he’d never known about, when Dopinder walked in. 

 

“Mr Pool, I came as fast as I could. Where are the ruffians you needed my assistance with?”

 

The other man stood, slapping the smaller man a touch too hard on the shoulder if his face was anything to go by. “My man, we both knew I was lying when I said only a taxi driver of small stature and Indian heritage could help me.”

 

Dopinder sagged beneath the palm, eyes downcase. “Yes, Mr Pool. But I live in hope.”

 

“I know, buddy.” Deadpool rubbed the man’s shoulder. “We do need help only you can provide, though. Specifically, your phone.”

 

Dopinder blinked up at him, confused. “Why do you need my phone?”

 

“Now, Dopinder. We know better than to ask questions, now don’t we? Now, gimme.” 

 

Dopinder handed his phone into Deadpool’s outstretched hand, barely reacting to the wet kiss planted on his cheek before he noticed Peter sitting in front of him. 

 

“Oh my goodness! Mr Spider-Man, sir!” He rushed forward, grabbing Peter’s hand in an enthusiastic shake, “Mr Pool and I are huge fans. Mr Pool more than I, but I am so pleased you are finally getting together. I told him you would come around just as Geeta and I-”

 

“Uh-” Peter carefully extricated his hand from Dopinder’s grip. “I’m just here on business, Deadpool and I aren’t friends.”

 

Deadpool cried out, clutching his heart. “Ouch!” He handed Peter the phone, “Got your proof, cupcake. And don’t worry, I forgive you.”

 

Peter looked at the data, showing the other man at the bar for most nights, at his own apartment for one of the incidents and all the way across town for another. He quickly double checked the data. But no, it was all correct. 

 

He looked back at Deadpool, who had spread his arms with an indulgent smile. “It’s okay, baby boy. We can hug it out.”

 

Peter frowned, mind spinning fast through several thoughts. Settling on the lack of leads, the need for extra help, Deadpool’s volatile nature, but also his excess of resources for work like this. And you know what? He was tired. 

 

He tapped the phone against his hand, making a decision.  “I rescind my earlier comment. I’ll accept your help.”

 

The other man froze, eyes wide and arms stuck in the air, only making an unintelligent “What now?”

 

“You said you’d help. I accept. Two conditions. You listen and follow what I tell you.”

 

“Kinky.”

 

“And no killing.”

 

Deadpool’s eyes narrowed, “Self defence?”

 

“Irrelevant, you can’t be killed.”

 

“Your defence?”

 

“I can look after myself.”

 

“Revenge?”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

Deadpool snapped his fingers, “Mercy killing!”

 

“Nope.” Peter popped the p with purpose, watching the other man sag in defeat in a similar mirror to Dopinder earlier. 

 

Deadpool groaned, “Ugh, fine. I was right, you  _ are  _ no fun. That’s right, I lied to save your feelings! Take that! No, wait. I’m sorry. Take me back!”

 

Peter held out a hand, “We got a deal?”

 

Deadpool grinned, teeth looking sharp as he gripped his hand. “Partners.” 

 

“Not partners,” Peter scowled.

 

Dopinder piped up, “Um, I am very happy for you both, but may I have my phone back, please?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally edited the next chapter guys! That I wrote MONTHS ago. Wheeeeeeee - Enjoy! There's a lot more of Wade's POV, which is always fin to write :3

Peter had given all the information he had to the merc, and in the interest of having an open channel of communication, had provided the number to a burner phone he got for $5 in a grocery store. He’d been home for mere moments when his phone blew up with text messages. 

 

**OMG not to abuse the power uve given me but i just saw a pic of a chicken wearing flip flops**

 

**This is Very Important plz reply**

 

**OMG THERES A BIRD WITH HOJEYCOMB BEING CHASED BY BEES IN CENTRAL PARK SPIDEY PLZ**

 

**Well ur missing out i am having a Good and Great day YOU COULD BE PART OF**

 

**Im sorry 4 yellin plz love me xoxo**

 

Peter frowned at the messages, typing out a brief “This line is for work messages only.” Before tossing the phone on his bed and settling down with his laptop. 

 

He pulled up a message from Jeremy, heart squeezing a little in the hope that the other man had some proper leads now his main one was apparently bust. 

 

**Hey Parker, looked into the merc you mentioned. He could have a motive. Seems that the partner of Julia was some mob boss, William Grace. He runs gambling dens, unlikely as it sounds I think maybe Edith got in some trouble there. Maybe he was looking to send a message and employed your guy? I’ll let you know if I get more.**

 

Peter frowned. That didn’t sound like Edith, his Aunt’s friend was a no-nonsense sort. He didn’t even know how she’d have gotten into it. He clicked the attachment to the message, bringing up a grainy CCTV image of Edith going into the back room of a corner store. 

 

He huffed, sitting back. Was he really that bad a judge of character? He chewed on his nail, studying the image. That was definitely Edith. 

 

Granted, a mob boss killing a police officer would make sense, but why his own partner? His goons seemed pretty set on protecting her. Well, one of them. Maybe she was cheating? 

 

He picked up his phone, already with two messages from Deadpool. 

 

**Just tryin to brighten ur day**

 

**:(**

 

Peter rolled his eyes.

 

**I’ve got a potential lead. If William Grace had wanted a hit on some people, where would he have gone?**

 

He tapped the screen a few seconds, considering who else he could ask when his phone vibrated in his hand, jarring him from his thoughts. 

 

**Oooh a fast worker. Nerd.**

 

**And it would depend on the hit, he’s got his own guys but he’s been known to go private when he didn’t want the group to know.**

 

**Asked yours truly a couple times ;) but said i was too messy and skimped on my pay >:(**

 

**Woulda done something but didn’t want Julia to cry :'(((**

 

**Wait, she’s dead now. REVENGE**

 

Peter scowled.

 

**Don’t you dare, Pool.**

 

The reply was instant.

 

**NO. FUN.**

 

So. William Grace could go private, which would make sense if he wanted a hit on his own girl. But then, how would that send a message? 

 

He just couldn’t quite link up the dots. His stomach rumbled as he groaned, frustrated. He glanced at his kitchen, where all his pans were waiting to be washed. 

 

Fuck it. He was ordering a burger. 

 

**

 

Wade figured that his baby boy hadn’t come out with some random question about Grace, and he was likely the next lead. A lead that lead to him, and if that ain’t a sentence that highlighted the failings of the English language you could fuck him in the ass and call him Polly. 

 

But it meant the closer to the truth he dug, the better for him. He was pretty sure.

 

_We told you, it isn’t us._

 

_Trust is an important trait to have._

 

“Guess I can’t add it to my CV anytime soon”, Wade mumbled, taking a bite of his burrito while he watched for when Grace would finally leave the club. More precisely, the backroom of the club that Wade could see on the CCTV screen through a window. Such lax security.

 

_And convenient plot device._

 

After long finishing his food and getting up to 1028 bottles of beer on the wall-

 

_How are you counting up? That’s not how the song works._

 

_He’s getting confused with the men that went to mow a meadow._

 

-Grace got up from the table along with his two guards. 

 

Wade rubbed his hands together, jumping on the spot. “Okay kiddies, time to do some shit you shouldn’t try at home. Cause the mess at someone else’s house, then leave! Top tips from Daddy Deadpool.” 

 

_And why would kids be reading an Explicit fanfiction?_

 

Wade stood, tense as Grace was guided to his car. One of the guards getting in the front while the other handed off his radio to the next guy. 

 

Finally, Grace pulled away and Wade dropped down by the remaining guard, who jumped out of his skin and squealed. 

 

“Ow, fuckin’ knees.” Wade hobbled up, thumbing his kneecaps back to the vague positions they should be. He grinned at the other man, “Hey Bob.”

 

Bob clutched his chest, heaving deeply. “You scared the shit outta me, man. What the fuck?”

 

Wade shrugged, still shaking out his leg where he was fairly sure there was something shattered. “Thought you like surprises.” 

 

“Not when they look like you!”

 

“Hey! Let’s not go straight in with the ugly jokes. You gotta tease a little. The audience expects more.”

 

_He can’t help if it’s true._

 

“What the fuck do you want, Wade?”

 

“Hey! Assuming I want something?”

 

“You don’t?” 

 

“Well, yeah.” Bob scoffed, Wade already talking over him. “But, still, I may not have! This time.”

 

“Just tell me what you want, man.” 

 

Wade tutted, sighing. “You’re just like Spidey. No fuckin’ fun.”

 

Bob’s eyebrows shot up, leer already spreading across his face, “So this is about your big fat crush?”

 

“No! Maybe it’s about my need to be a better person.”

 

Bob just stared deadpan at him. 

 

_Oh, he’s good._

 

“Fine. Maybe it is. Anyway, I need to know who Gracey goes to when he needs side jobs done on the down low.”

 

Bob snorted, “Why the fuck would I tell you? This is the longest I held down a job since Hydra, and you fucked that up too.”

 

“Hey!” Wade pointed in Bob’s face, “That was your own choice. And need I remind you of that little trip to Calgary?”

 

“What? The one _you_ convinced me to go on?”

 

“I didn’t tell you to get kidnapped! If you’d just stuck to the plan-”

 

“Your stupid plan that only works if you can come back to life.”

 

_Offensive. Not our fault he can’t survive a little 750 foot drop._

 

“Well! Which muggins was it that went back and saved your pasty, ungrateful ass?”

 

_A mistake._

 

Bob huffed, crossing his arms. “You.”

 

“Exactly. Now stop throwing a tantrum and write me a list.”

 

“You want me to further incriminate myself by writing it down? Are you crazy?”

 

“Yes to both.” Wade clapped his hands, “Chop chop.”

 

Bob grumbled the whole time, ripping the offered notepad from Wade’s hands and starting to scribble down a list. He shoved it back at Wade. 

 

_Short list._

 

“This is either definitely to do with that crush, or you’re trying to get back on Grace’s books. Either way, you know it won’t work, Wade.”

 

Wade flipped the pad closed, shoving it in his pocket. “Believe what you want, Bob. And say hi to Karen and the kids.”

 

Bob called after him as he started to jog away, “You know I won’t! Do it your fucking self!”

 

**

 

It hadn’t taken too long for Wade to locate the signal for Spidey’s phone while sending multiple texts about his adventures in Central Park, so he decided he might as well surprise the guy with the good news. 

 

In his defense, he did text to say he’d see him soon. Not his fault Spidey didn’t seem to get the message, so now he found himself pinned to a wall by the grip of one strong hand. He didn’t bother to suppress his shudder or salacious grin. 

 

“Oh Spidey”, He purred, “If I’d know I would have prepped before I got here.”

 

He couldn’t see the other guy’s reaction, on behalf of the blindfold he’s put on before coming through the window. He had been worried he was in the wrong place before the display of definite Spidey-strength. 

 

_So many good uses for that strength._

 

_Too many. Breaking brain._

 

The other man’s voice sounded off, a little smoother. Same accent and inflections. Wade tilted his head, trying to absorb as much of the radio version of Spidey as possible, despite how furious he sounded.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Pool? How did you know where to find me? Is that a blindfold?”

 

“Didn’t wanna drop by and accidentally unmask you. Though I’m sure you’re truly a delicious sight to behold, I’m all about consent.”

 

The hand at his neck flexed and Wade couldn’t help how his eyes rolled a little in pleasure, toes curling in his boots. 

 

_He could literally kill us right now._

 

_And we would thank him for it. Step on me, daddy!_

 

“Fuck”, Wade wheezed a little, the hand suddenly dropping him in a heap to the floor. 

 

He heard a sigh as he rolled back to his feet, Spidey’s voice back to usual. “You’d fine now, take the blindfold off and explain.”

 

Wade tentatively lifted the blindfold off, eyes squinting to take in the sight in front of him. Spidey had the mask on, but he was topless and in sweatpants. He still had marks on his skin from what Wade assumed was blankets. 

 

_Bet he looks all sleep rumpled and delicious under there._

 

Spidey jerked a hand at him as Wade found himself getting lost in the valleys of his abs, “Deadpool. Explain.”

 

Wade shook himself, “Right. Yeah. Your phone, tracked it. Wanted to surprise you.” He spread his hands, “Ta-da!”

 

He watched Spidey’s hands twitch, saw that little flex of his jaw.

 

_Ooh. Baby boy is angry._

 

_I told you guys this was a shit idea._

 

Wade stayed frozen as Spidey sighed, shoulders sagging. “Of course you did. At fucking 4AM, why not? Don’t know what I expected.” 

 

_Oof, that early?_

 

_Someone’s not a morning person. Or would it be a night person at 4AM?_

 

He watched as Spidey flopped down on the ratty sofa. Wow, now Wade was paying attention, this whole place looked run down and worn. And not in a lack of care kinda way, the floors and walls were clean and well maintained. His eyes widened.

 

“Shit, Spidey, you’re poor?”

 

He could see the scowl through Spidey’s mask, the other man crossing his arms across his bare chest, Wade already mourning the loss of those perky nipples. 

 

“Don’t see how that’s your business, Pool.”

 

_Some people get so touchy about money._

 

_Understandably._

 

Wade held up his hands in defeat, “Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean anything by it. Just assumed by all your high-tech shit and the fancy suit your home would be…” He waved a hand uselessly.

 

_I don’t think there’s a non-offensive way to say what your trying to get at._

 

Spidey rolled his head in the way Wade had come to relate with rolling your eyes. “Yeah, well. I make it all by hand, and most my money goes on the parts.”

 

Wade nodded slow, eyes widening as he thought back to all the shit he’d seen Spidey with. “Fuck. You’re such a nerd. But it’s kinda hot?”

 

Spidey sighed again, “More to the point, why are you here? You didn’t come just to see what crazy gadgets I have, as I’m clearly lacking in that department. Go bother Stark.”

 

Wade wrinkled his nose, “No thanks.”

 

_The topic, Wade._

 

He jumped, moving forward to sit next to Spidey and trying to ignore how the other man tensed all over at the action. “Right, so. I looked into Gracey boy for you-”

 

“Didn’t ask you to. Oh, God, please tell me you didn’t clue him in. Or kill him.”

 

Wade flapped a hand, “No, no. I didn’t even talk to him, got a guy I know who works for him. It’s how he ever tried me for a side job, anyway!” Wade dug out his notepad, flipping past his doodles to get to the page Bob had used before leaning in. 

 

_Of course Spidey would lean away. You probably smell like rotting flesh._

 

Wade shoved the notepad at the other man, sitting back and bouncing in his seat. Spidey frowned down at the page before looking back to him. “What’s this meant to be?”

 

“Glad you asked! List of Grace’s guys he uses for side jobs. If he ordered those deaths, he’d have used one of these guys.” Wade preened, waiting for the praise. 

 

“Huh.” Spidey turned back to the notepad thoughtfully, getting up and wandering the two steps to the bedside. He picked up a laptop, sitting on the bed to open it up and start typing. 

 

Wade rocked on the sofa, tapping his fingers against his thighs. 

 

_No praise for you this time, big guy._

 

_Why would there be? Hardly nullifies all the shit you do usually._

 

Wade got up, wandering around the room. He poked at the few things dotted around the bare space. Books on biochemistry, genetic mutations, general nerd shit. All library books. Two overdue. He quietly slipped $50 in the front of both, next to the library tickets. 

 

He heard another noise of interest from across the room, striding over to where Spidey sat in the glow of the screen. 

 

He slid beside him, twisting to look at the screen.

 

_Is he gonna tense up like the pope at the kiddie pool each time we’re near him?_

 

_It is getting old. But tbf, we are disgusting._

 

_And he probably still thinks we did this._

 

“What ya found baby boy?”

 

Webs spun the laptop round to face him, pointing to the face on screen. 

 

“This guy seems to have the right skillset. Spec Ops.”

 

“Just like me”, Wade murmured, drawing the laptop closer to him, eyes a little blurry today. “Yeah, I don’t recognise this guy.”

 

“Really? All you Spec Ops guys don’t meet up and braid your hair and talk about your feelings?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure they do. But I’m never invited.”

 

Spidey scoffed, taking the laptop back. “Can’t imagine why. So you think we look into this guy?”

 

_Ooh. We. I like that._

 

Wade cocked his head, “You’re the one running this operation, baby boy. We’ll look wherever you wanna.”

 

He watched as the other man fidgeted, tapping a nail against the plastic casing of his laptop. “Okay, look. I’ve asked for your help with this because I recognise that… The need for another set of eyes. This is important. I can’t afford to miss anything.”

 

Wade quirked an eyebrow, sensing that wasn’t the only reason. But whatever. He shrugged, making grabby hands for the computer.

 

_Wow. Baby boy trusts easy, handing over an item with a whole lot of his personal information in-_

 

_We are not doing this. We are not fucking up this fast._

 

_We already broke in though!_

 

Wade ignored the boxes’ whining in his head, checking over the list Bob had given him. Double checking military and police records using the logins he’d seen Weasel using. Nice that his memory only works for illegal shit.

 

_Don’t tempt fate, Wade. You should know better by now._

 

He sat away from the screen as Webs slapped his hand from where it had begun absently digging into the skin by the seam at his neck. 

 

“Yeah, think your guy makes the most sense from the profiles of the deaths. Not that I doubted you for a second, shnookums.” Wade grinned, Spidey ignoring him.

 

“So how do we find him? You’re the one with all the shady connections.”

 

“Hey!” Wade put on an offended air, “I don’t make connections! Acquaintances, maybe. I’m a lone wolf. A sole rider. Utterly single, looking for a certain arachnid to put a ring on it.”

 

He could see the frown through Spidey’s mask. “Back on topic, Pool. Locating the guy.”

 

“Right. Several ways to do that. Find his family-”

 

“No killing.”

 

“Woah there, Jiminy Cricket. Was gonna say they’d know where to find him. I can be pretty charming, hey don’t laugh!”

 

Spidey huffed, “I’ve known you called annoying, vulgar, disgusting, and better off dead. Never charming.”

 

Wade puffed up his chest, “Yeah? Well you haven’t seen me with the old ladies. Got a blind old gal, one of my best friends. I think. Or is she my enemy right now?”

 

_Last we saw her she tried to kill us._

 

_Heh, classic Al._

 

“Either way, I can be charming.”

 

“I don’t believe you, nor do I trust you. I’ll go.”

 

“What, to an ex-Spec Ops turned merc’s familial home, in suit? They’ll know better than to tell you anything, unless they ain’t on good terms. Either way, we’d get nothing.” He didn’t bother keeping the smugness from his tone.

 

Spidey groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Then I won’t go as Spidey.”

 

“What can your Clark Kent persona do in a sticky situation without the webs, baby boy?” Wade challenged.

 

Spidey crossed his arms, squaring his jaw. “It won’t go wrong.”

 

Wade narrowed his eyes, “No offense, cupcake, but I think the news that their kid’s mixed in some trouble would come better from someone that looks like he got put through a meat grinder twice. Then a shredder. Then balled up and spat through a straw at a wall like some weird abstract art piece that makes people hurl.”

 

Spidey tensed even further, muscles in his arms and shoulders standing out- and if that didn’t look so delicious now he could see his skin on his arms with the dusting of hair and-

 

 _Spidey’s talking._  

 

“-not completely convinced yet so I think I’ll be going, thanks.”

 

Wade shook his head, “Can’t let you go alone.”

 

“I can handle myself.”

 

“Yes! I know!” Wade flapped his hands, Spidey leaning out of range. “You can, obviously. As Spider-man, I’m pretty sure you can do anything. But if you wanna keep your apparently super geeky dork alter-ego under wraps you won’t be able to use your usual bag of tricks to get outta trouble.” He pointed at the single poster on the wall, “You have a poster of the freakin’ Mars Rover, for god’s sake. Like some sick pin-up. She’s dead, Spidey. Stop wanking over a corpse.”

 

Spidey pointed at him, “You leave Curiosity out of this. And I don’t masturbate over- You know what. We’re not even getting into that. And like I said, I let you go and you’ll just fuck it up, somehow. Like you always do!”

 

Wade felt the air punch out of him. 

 

_Low blow._

 

_Hurts even more when it’s true._

 

“Right”, Wade wheezed a little, “Yeah. You’re right. I can’t be trusted alone, but neither can your alter ego. You need someone to watch your back, baby boy.” Spidey stiffened as Wade continued, “You got anyone who can do that for you?”

 

Spidey shifted uncomfortably, avoiding looking right at Wade. 

 

_God he’s cute. Such a fucking dork._

 

_But so mean. Like those russian hamsters who latch on._

 

“You don’t gotta reveal your identity, I promise not to go looking for whoever is under the mask.”

 

Spidey flexed his hands, “That won’t work… You’d… Recognise me.”

 

“Oh my god!” Wade gasped, gripping Spidey’s shoulder, “Are you famous? Are you an actor? No wait, the apartment. Are you a celebrity that hit rock bottom? Are you Steven Hawkins? I always knew he was faking-”

 

“Wow, ableist. And no, I’m not famous. We’ve just… Met. Before.”

 

Wade had to hold himself back from guessing any further. The Webhead clearly wasn’t comfortable with him knowing. He let out a breath, willing himself to relax. “Okay, well. I could go blind?”

 

Spidey snorted, “Yeah, like they wouldn’t notice you wearing a blindfold. And how are you meant to help if you’re blind?”

 

“I meant literally blind myself, but that’s a good point.” Wade tapped his mouth, “I could kill everyone in the room, but that would include you.”

 

“While I could protect myself, I’d rather you didn’t try. And again, no killing. This is why I don’t want you coming.”

 

Wade groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Fuck, it was lumpy. Smelled like Spidey though… Mmm. 

 

“Okay, so asking the family is out. I can ask Weasel to try and track him, does this shit all the time.”

 

“Thought you said you could do it just fine without him?”

 

Wade huffed, “I can. I just don’t wanna”, He whined, flopping over to look at Spidey as he typed out more on his computer. “He lives for that nerd shit. While I can do it, I prefer to skip to the action scene. Or the sex scene.” 

 

He waggled his eyebrows, pouting when Webs didn’t even turn to look at him. 

 

“Well, I’m just gonna text Weasel then I’m gonna make breakfast coz I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

 

“Don’t touch my stuff”, Spidey grunted, still tapping at the computer. 

 

Wade frowned, “How am I supposed to make kick ass pancakes without touching your stuff?” 

 

Spidey shrugged, still not looking at him. 

 

_Kinda rude._

 

_Lucky he’s cute._

 

Wade grumbled to himself as he shot off a message to Weasel, “Damn rules, ruin my plans. Now we both gonna miss out on my pancakes. Gotta bring some groceries next time.”

 

Spidey’s voice was sharp, “There won’t be a next time, Pool. I don’t appreciate you invading my privacy. Or tracking me.”

 

“Wasn’t tracking so much as locating, and I thought you’d be happy I found you some juicy info.” Wade flopped to his knees, clasping his hands, “Forgive me, baby boy. Let me back in the Spideycave, I guess Spideyloft. And we need to meet up often for your project, and wifi really helps with that.” He let a little whine into his voice, really dragging those vowels, “Please?” 

 

Spidey narrowed his eyes at where Wade knelt at his feet, and ooh Wade really needed to stay focussed after how _that_ made him feel. 

 

“And we can’t meet at your place because…?” 

 

“I mean, where I live ain’t no secret, so unless you’re okay with uninvited guests.” Wade shrugged. 

 

Spidey huffed, “Fine-”

 

Wade cheered.

 

“- But! Next time, call first. And don’t wake me up unless it’s important- AND relevant! Not about some squirrel you saw or whatever.”

 

“Your loss”, Wade shrugged, getting back up. “Ooh, Weasel replied. Yadda yadda yadda, load of bitching and… Should have the info by this afternoon.” 

 

He collapsed next to Spidey again, “So what ya wanna do til then?”

 

“Sleep.”

 

Wade squealed, “Sleepover!”

 

“Alone.” Wade flopped in defeat as Spidey began pushing him to his feet. “I’ll talk to you later, Pool.”

 

Wade sighed dramatically as he reached the window, swooning against the frame. “I’ll miss you, sweetness. Dream of me!”

 

Spidey tiredly flipped him the bird as Wade cackled, climbing out to the fire escape and back down to the street. 

 

**

 

It didn’t take too much for Peter to locate the family. After memorising the logins Deadpool used for the Police records, it was actually incredibly easy. 

 

He didn’t know why Deadpool was so set against him going to dig for information, but the fact he wanted to go alone was suspicious. With a capital S. Suspicious. 

 

So after setting his test tubes into their next cycle through the centrifuge he made his way over. 

 

It had been going fairly smoothly, the perp’s grandmother had let him in and made him a mug of chamomile tea full of bits when the doorbell went again. 

 

“Oh, dear. Two visitors in one day!” She heaved herself to her feet, waving Peter’s offer of help away. “Maybe that’s my grandson, he is due a visit. Just one moment, young man.”

 

She tottered away, leaving him alone in the low hum of daytime television and the occasional squawk from her budgie. He put his mug down, trying to shrink into himself and appear as non-threatening as possible when the new visitor turned the corner into the living room and Peter felt himself bristle in response. 

 

The new arrival’s mouth quirked up into a smirk, “Oh, didn’t expect anyone else to be here. How’s it goin’, gorgeous? Name’s Wade.” 

 

Peter glared as the merc continued to let his hand hang in the air. “I’m aware who you are”, He managed to grit out around his clenched jaw. 

 

The scarred man nodded, letting his hand fall back as the little old lady came in behind him. “I must ask that you remove your hat inside, my dear.”

 

Deadpool froze, eyes going panicked, “Not sure anyone wants to see that.”

 

She sat with a small huff, waving at the merc. “Don’t be silly. My son and his son after him both came home from war with their fair share of scars. There’s no judgement in my household.” She turned to Peter, offering a sewing tin, “Cookie?”

 

Peter took a thin mint stiffly, Deadpool taking off the hood and hat before sitting next to Peter on the sofa. The merc helped himself to five cookies, shoving them all in his mouth. Peter felt his eye twitch, falling to sit as far into the corner as possible while Deadpool just seemed to fill all the space he left available. 

 

“I am sorry, dear, I wasn’t expecting to be so popular today. It’s quite lucky you’re both here for the same reason.”

 

Deadpool perked up, glancing at Peter even as he leaned closer to the old lady. “Oh, really? Life’s little coincidences.”

 

She smiled, patting his hand. “Quite. Although I know Joel here said he’s interviewing veterans, perhaps it’s fate that you two met?”

 

Peter forced his mouth into a smile, feeling his muscles strain. “Yeah. Amazing.”

 

Deadpool’s eyes flicked over him, Peter feeling as if they were piercing right through him. “Yeah, doubt I’d make the cut on that one. So you’re looking for Craig as well, huh?”

 

Peter set down the cookie, crossing his arms defensively. “Looking to talk, writing a piece on life after the army. Heard he’d have a good angle. Why are you looking for Mr Gellem?”

 

“Don’t see if that’s your business, cupcake.” The merc turned back to the old lady before Peter could come up with a reply, “You’ve not told him anything yet, Mrs Gellem?”

 

Her eyes widened, “Oh, no. Not yet. Why? Is my Craig in trouble?”

 

“Yeah, maybe we should get _Joel_ out of your fine establishment before we continue.”

 

Peter jerked forward, “Hey! Wait a second-”

 

“Well, I think this marks the end of your visit, Joel.” Deadpool stood, grabbing Peter by the forearm and guiding him to the door with far too much force for Peter to get out of the hold without tapping into his super strength. 

 

“Great to see you, truly. Rare I get to see a piece of eye candy this tasty, but this is strictly private and with you being a reporter and all I don’t particularly trust your ability to keep a secret.” He shoved him out the door, causing Peter to stumble to catch his footing. 

 

“Catch ya later, bubble butt.” The merc winked, slamming the door as Peter cursed.

 

What the fuck was that about? 

 

**

 

Lucky Peter had a suit hidden nearby for him to wait in the shadows for Deadpool to reappear. He was getting jittery with how much of his lunch hour was ticking away when the merc finally left the house with his hat and hood back on to hide his face. 

 

Peter ambushed him when they were finally out of sight of the house.

 

“Spidey!” The merc looked far too happy to see him from where he’d been webbed to an alleyway wall. He started babbling excitedly, “Glad you’re here! And _damn_ forgot these hold so well. Right! Got some info on our guy, but I think they may be onto us. Sent some mousy nerd with an ass to die for and a fake name before me, because who would ever suspect some twunk looking geek? It’s genius! I checked him out on my phone while I talked to Marguerite, and he just _happens_ to have a lot of interest in all our victims. Maybe he’s just randomly selecting them? Gasp! Maybe it was him all along! Or he’s the PA? Either way, we chase him down-”

 

Peter cut off the stream of consciousness before it could go any further, “The guy in there before you? You didn’t recognise him?” 

 

The merc blinked down at him, “I mean, I don’t think so? He seems attractive in a familiar way, but I think it’s just similar? Maybe? Wait. Whitey says we do know him? Maybe?”

 

“You tried to kill him before”, Peter prompted, more than a little exasperated. 

 

“Oh… That sounds like something I’d do. Wait, that’s a good question, Yellow. What _are_ you doing here baby boy?” 

 

“Well I...” Peter hesitated. “I know him. The guy in there before you. He’s not our guy.”

 

“How can you be so sure? Maybe he’s been fooling you this whole time.” Wade squinted, “Wait, how do you know him?”

 

“Well that’s simple. It’s because he’s…” Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic. “He’s only looking into this as a favour. For me.”

 

Wade’s eyes narrowed further, Peter feeling his sweat chilling the Spandex against his skin.

 

Just as fast as the suspicion was there, it’s gone. Replaced by Deadpool’s overly jovial demeanour. “So that’s why you’re here, don’t even trust ol’ Petey pie in there alone. Wow, you do really know how to pick em. A crazy mercenary and a clueless nerd.” 

 

Peter flexed his jaw, “I wouldn’t call him clueless.”

 

Deadpool snorted, tittering to himself. “He still had his lanyard in his pocket, easy pickpocket material.” 

 

Fuck. He resisted the urge to check.

 

“And he didn’t even try to delete his internet history”, Oh, shit. “Makes a lotta sense he works for you, was worried with some of his searches he was trying to draw you out to kill you. Or maybe he was a crazed fan, we all have those. Mine tried to rebuild me with my parts.”

 

Peter couldn’t quite form the unsettled sound into words before it left his throat.

 

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, White said other me ain’t in this universe.”

 

Fuck, Peter really needed to rethink how he operated. How many people could have just stumbled on his secret identity? But it wasn’t like this gig came with a damn handbook. 

 

Unless it did? Should he check with the Avengers? Though most of them are hardly secret-

 

“Hey Spidey, I really gotta pee. Can I come down?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Peter sprayed a little of his anti-webbing formula, ripping away the rest. 

 

He huffed as Deadpool fell on him, automatically adjusting to carry the weight. 

 

“Sorry”, The hot breath on Peter’s neck made goosebumps shoot up his spine, “Dead legs. Mm, you smell good. Is that cinnamon, or your natural scent?” 

 

Peter yanked the merc up by his armpits, the other man squealing in delight. “Don’t appreciate you in my personal space, Pool.”

 

Deadpool’s smile twitched a little, “I’m Deadpool in the mask, baby boy. Right now, this is just Wade.”

 

Peter blinked. Right. He had mentioned before. He carefully set the man, Wade, back on his feet. 

 

“So, W-” Nope, weird. “What’s the information you got?” 

 

Wade grinned wide, and wow Peter had not been noticing how that made his scarred skin stretch in a way that looked kind of painful. 

 

“Found out where he lives, you wanna head over now?” He waggled where his brows would be. 

 

That would make sense, though he felt like he was forgetting- 

 

Peter froze. “What time is it?” 

 

Wade squinted, “I have no idea what about me screams ‘has solid grasp of where in time he is.’ But I’m flattered? I think? Maybe offended.”

 

“You don’t have your phone?”

 

“Oh yeah! They got the time. Usually.” He dug his phone out his back pocket, “1AM. Wow, it’s bright for- Wait. In the Philippines.”

 

“New York?”

 

“C’mon, baby boy. 12 hour difference, this is easy shit.”

 

Peter swore, he was late. He jabbed a finger in the merc’s face, “Don’t go without me. No torture or murder.”

 

Wade threw his hands up in surrender, “No murder or torture til you get back, got it.”

 

“At all.”

 

Wade sighed, put upon. “For you, I guess.”

 

“I’m serious.” Come on Parker, don’t be weird about it. “Wade. Promise me.” 

 

The other’s name felt wrong to say in public, even if he clearly didn’t care about his own identity being a secret.

 

Wade gave an exaggerated shiver, “Anything, baby boy, you name it. Promise I’ll wait for you.”

 

That’d have to do. Peter hastily swung back to the lab, turning up rumpled with badly constructed excuses no one cared to examine. 

 

**

 

Of course the merc was waiting for him in his apartment. Because why would he be anywhere else?

 

Peter sighed, dumping his shit on the floor and going to dig out a spare mask from the hidden bottom in his drawer. 

 

“Can I look yet? OW FUCK!” The other man curse where he rebounded off a wall. 

 

Peter tugged the mask on, smothering a laugh. “Why are you walking around with your hand over your eyes?”

 

“I’m being a _gentleman_.” Wade huffed, one hand on his hip. 

 

“Sure”, Peter stated drily, resisting the urge to poke the blinded man. Reminding himself this is a dangerous mercenary with knives likely on his person. Not who he would want to surprise. 

 

He sat down on the sofa, “Guess we better plan this out, then.” 

 

Said merc that was now pawing the air around him, staggering across the floor. “Marco?” 

 

“I’ve got the mask on, P- Wade.”

 

He shuffled closer, hand still in midair. “Marco!”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, “Polo.” And webbed the merc by the belt, tugging him onto the sofa. 

 

Wade laughed, delighted. “Wow, really know how to sweep a gal off her feet.” 

 

Peter ignored the wink. “So, we need a plan to get the information we need from Mr Gellem-”

 

“Ooh! Oooh!” Wade stuck his hand in the air, not waiting for a reply. “I opt torture!”

 

“No torture.”

 

“Ah, I think you’ll find that’s three votes to one.” 

 

Three? Right, the voices. “Your mistake was assuming this is a democracy, Pool.”

 

“Wade”, Right. Damn. “And I guess this isn’t the worst dictatorship I’ve been under. Hoping this isn’t the only way I get under you though, if you catch my meaning.”

 

Peter sighed, “Always assume I understand you terrible double entendres.”

 

“Ooh, speak French to me baby boy. You know how it gets my creative juices flowing.” 

 

Peter groaned, running a hand down his face. Why had he thought letting the merc help would ever be a good idea? 

 

“So no physical torture. Psychological?”

 

“If you mean water torture-”

 

“Can’t go wrong with the classics!”

 

“No.”

 

Wade blew a raspberry at that, getting up to go to Peter’s kitchen. 

 

“Where are you going now?” It was like trying to keep a toddler on track. Only if the toddler had a foul mouth and a knife. 

 

“Made up some pancake batter before you got home, gotta woo my man somehow.” Wade flounced, pulling a mixing bowl towards him and putting on a Southern drawl. “Before I get too old and become a spinster momma could never marry off.”

 

Peter frowned, “I didn’t have any food. If you found pancake mix, it was probably way out of date and I won’t be eating it.”

 

The merc gasped, “Firstly, I’m offended you think I’d _ever_ use the travesty that is premade pancake mix. Secondly, I lost track of what I was saying but _how dare you_.”

 

He shoved a pan on the hob, and fuck, he’d done Peter’s dishes. Weirdly invasive and… Unexpected. Domestic?

 

While Peter was trying to sort through how to feel about this, Wade was chattering away to himself. 

 

“- That’s a point, if we sound Gellum's pancake mix, we could probably get the answers we want without torture. And if that doesn’t work, we still got good ol’ reliable torture.”

 

Peter shook his head, swivelling on the sofa to face the scarred man more fully. “Wait, his what now?”

 

Wade tutted, flipping a pancake impressively high. “See this is why we need a marriage counselor, Spidey. Sometimes I feel like you just don’t listen to me.”

 

“Wade-”

 

“Yeah, fair, I put out a lotta information per minute.” He slid a pancake on a waiting plate, pouring in another ladleful. “I was just saying that if we can figure out whatever it is that gets under Gellum’s skin. What bothers him. Maybe a little light threats, if we’re lucky we could convince him to spill the info we need.”

 

Peter frowned, “Sounds a lot like extortion.” 

 

“Eh, light blackmail maybe.” Wade smiled at him, “We won’t use anything he wouldn’t have if he was innocent.”

 

Peter huffed, his stomach suddenly clenching at the sweet smell filling his apartment and making its presence known with a loud growl. 

 

Wade’s smile grew into a grin, “Come eat the first batch, baby boy. You need brain food.”

 

Peter’s eyebrow quirked even as he made his way over to the kitchen to nab the first pancake off the plate. “Wouldn’t call pancakes brain food.” 

 

He pulled his mask up, shoving the entire cake in his mouth and groaning.

 

Wade pointed at him with the spatula, “The blueberries totally count.” He slid another pancake in front of Peter, starting a third with the smooth, practiced motions of someone who clearly did this often. 

 

Peter shoved in the other pancake, sighing around the mouthful as the blueberries burst across his tongue. 

 

“Hey, feel free to keep up with those pornographic noises. All great material for the wank bank.”

 

Peter shoved Wade, swallowing his food. He groaned even as the merc giggled, “God, not when I’m eating Wade.”

 

Wade snickered, flipping another pancake on the plate. 

 

Peter kept eating, Wade keeping up a constant chatter about random shit. 

 

Peter sighed, groaning as he stretched. 

 

“All good, baby boy?” Wade smiled a little crooked at him, lazily flipping a pancake with the spatula. 

 

“Yeah”, Peter blinked, “Yeah, I needed something to eat. That was good, thanks.”

 

Wade shrugged, but his smile only seemed to grow. 

 

“Sorry, I’ll let you eat before we keep planning.”

 

Wade shrugged, plating up another pancake and pouring in the last of the mix. Fuck, had Peter eaten that much?

 

“I don’t mind, Webs. Whatever you want, it’s your operation.” He flipped off the heat, licking his thumb as he put the pan in the sink. 

 

Peter hesitated, “Well, if you don’t care either way.” He wandered back to the sofa, groaning as he sat down. He hadn’t felt this full in a long time. 

 

“I guess I can see some credit to your idea,'' Peter admitted. 

 

Wade frowned, picking up the plate. He cocked his head to the side, “I had an idea?”

 

“Yeah. About finding a good reason for Gellem to give up the information?”

 

Wade snapped his fingers, “Right! The diet blackmail.” He sat down next to Peter, his knee knocking against Peter. He needed a bigger couch. He needed a lot of things. 

 

“Funny, his grandma mentioned he has a daughter.”

 

Peter frowned, “Wade-”

 

Wade flapped a hand, taking a bite of a pancake, “Don’t worry, I don’t mean hurt her. But he may not want her knowing what he does for a living.”

 

Peter hummed, “That still feels like a… Low blow.”

 

Wade shrugged, finishing his pancake in one more bite. “It’s one way to deal with scum, but that’s okay. You got standards, I get that Spidey.” He swallowed, shoving in the final pancake. “Inconvenient as fuck, though.”

 

“Sorry for being a spanner in your plans. What other information have we got?”

 

Wade sighed, chewing. “I mean, he’s a merc, like me. We tend to run off money as motivation. We could try to outbid Grace, which, at a guess from your digs, you wouldn’t be able to help with.”

 

Peter nodded, “No. I’m pretty close to broke at all times.”

 

“And I don’t think I’d be able to afford it on my own, just went on a spending spree and got a new bazooka.”

 

Peter squinted, “Why would you need a bazooka in a city like this? The damages alone-”

 

“They’re cool as fuck. And you never know when this shit will come in handy.” Wade absently started picking at the skin by his mouth, Peter slapping the hand away and causing him to jump. 

 

“Leave your skin alone.”

 

“Right! Sorry.” Wade sat on his hands, wiggling a little. “So if we can’t outbid him, we need to somehow stop his supply of money. Ooh! Yeah! A nice idea for once, Yellow.” Wade grinned at him, “I could steal all his jobs.”

 

Before Peter could open his mouth, Wade barrelled forward, “Trust me, it’s annoying as fuck. Had it happen to me before, the guy ended up taking out all my bones. Which really fucking sucked. Took forever to regrow. Point is; we cut off this guy’s income, he’ll come to us.”

 

Peter nodded, “That’s kind of… A good idea. Except it means you doing work that’s going to be highly immoral. Haven't you been trying to live by some kind of moral code?”

 

The merc clutched his heart, “Aw, Spidey. Thank you for noticing. And that’s okay, if there are innocent people in there we can just report em or save em or whatever it is you do best.”

 

“That’s… Actually a good idea, Wade.”

 

Wade squealed, clapping his hands and bouncing on the spot. “Yes! Fucking success! I’ll message Weasel. Ahh, I’m so excited. Secret missions with my baby boy, thank the author!”

 

**

 

Peter got a text from the merc the following Sunday, at dinner with his Aunt May. 

 

She tsked at him checking his phone at the table, Peter ducking his head and apologising. She sent him off with his dessert neatly packed into an old ice cream carton. 

 

He messaged Deadpool on the way, using a public restroom to get changed and wriggle out the tiny window. He swung to the agreed meeting place with Deadpool’s wolf whistle echoing up at him. 

 

Peter frowned as he walked towards him, “Why have you got score cards?”

 

Deadpool laughed, flicking the card away. “Only the one, because you’re always a perfect 10. You ready to bust some nuts?”

 

“Uhh…”

 

“In either sense of the phrase”, Deadpool winked through the mask. “Though, not actual nuts. Damn it. I knew I forgot something.”

 

“How many things do you carry around just for your lame jokes?” 

 

“As many as necessary, what kind of question is that? What else am I keeping in all these pockets?”

 

“I mean, I assumed with all the shooting… More ammunition?”

 

The merc flapped a hand, “Eh, I keep count. Comedic timing is more important. And hot sauce. I do anything Beyoncé tells me to. In song form.” 

 

“An important clarification”, Peter stated drily. “So what are we doing?”

 

“Glad you asked!” The merc grinned, pulling out a file to show Peter. “After some digging, we found the next job Craigy boy has been contracted for. A foreign politician come to visit for some photo op or whatever. Seems they want her dead for some political slash terrorist reasons they didn’t care to specify.”

 

“That’s terrible!” 

 

“Well, not so fast, because turns out she is one of the group of politicians getting donations from that big corporation that dabbles in child slavery.” 

 

“What?” Peter squawked, “Are you serious? What company? I’ve never heard of this.”

 

Deadpools smile was grim, “Exactly. Her and a few of her party covered it up and pushed through some laws that further enforced the loopholes allowing that kinda shit.” 

 

“Oh my god”, Peter breathed.

 

“I know!” Deadpool sounded far to joyous, “Which means she’s scum. So we take this job from him, and we get to earn the cash. Win win. Let’s face it, you really need a good payout.”

 

“Wait. Are you implying we kill her?” Peter glared at the merc, who began to fidget.

 

“Well…” The merc hesitated, “I mean. More _I_ kill her, but you get some of the pay?”

 

“No way!”

 

Deadpool groaned, Peter continuing despite his whining. “No killing. No matter what. People make mistakes, everyone deserves a chance to change. Killing her would make us just as bad, and where would we draw the line?” 

 

“I know the speech Spidey, damn.” Deadpool kicked at the tarmac, pouting. “Just thought it was worth a try.”

 

Peter frowned, sighing through his nose. “Was it?”

 

The merc rolled his head to the side, body sagging. “No, not really. But maybe one day you’ll change your mind. Actually. No, if you did I’d have to assume you were an evil clone and kill you.”

 

“Or you could not kill anyone.”

 

“Okay, shut your beautiful mouth, and let’s plan out how we can ruin this mission for Gellem.” 

 

**

 

Wade tried his best not to grumble as they continued to wait on the rooftop opposite where their target was currently tucked away. 

 

_We could have been done by now if we had just killed her._

 

_But then we’d have less Spidey-time._

 

_But this is booooriiiiing and we’re hungry._

 

Wade flexed his jaw in place of yelling at them to shut the fuck up already. Spidey sighed, handing the binoculars back to Wade. 

 

“Be just my luck if they decide to use a different meeting room.” 

 

Wade took the binoculars, checking the room. “Nah, they made way too many preparations to switch rooms now.” He checked around the building, “And no sign of our guy, guessing he’ll be going for the easier target for the photo op. More publicity and it’s outside.” 

 

“And we definitely saw her go in there?” 

 

Wade hesitated.

 

_Yeah, we did._

 

_And so did Spidey, so if he could not ask the guy with memory problems, that’d be just swell._

 

“Yeah. Definitely saw her.” Wade affirmed, going back to watch the room just in time to see the door swing open. “Ooh, looks like the party’s starting. Wanna crash it?” 

 

Spidey gripped his arm, “Wait until you can see her and she’s away from the door. I don’t wanna mess this up.” 

 

Wade nodded, silently revelling in the strong grip on his bicep. It helped ground him as excitement started to buzz under his skin, the excessive energy making him tense, ready to spill blood.

 

_Maybe less with Spidey here._

 

_Well, actually, live people bleed more._

 

Wade grinned, “We’re ready, baby boy.”

 

He handed the binoculars over, Spidey nodding as he saw their target right by the window, door to the room closed. 

 

“Okay.” He handed them back, looking Wade in the eyes. “Remember the plan. Grab her and get out. Shouldn’t be any need for bloodshed.”

 

_We remember._

 

Wade hadn’t.

 

_But just in case there is._

 

 _We wouldn’t_ **_complain_ ** _if there happened to be a need._

 

“Yeah, gotcha.” Wade made grabby hands at Spidey, “Throw me like one of your french pots.” 

 

He grinned as Spidey shook his head, manhandling Wade so that he could get a good grip on the cross section of his katana. 

 

“Guess we can test if I can trust you as far as I can throw you.” Spidey stated drily, causing Wade to snort. 

 

“It works on so many lev- WHOA!” He was sailing through the air in a perfect arc to the window. 

 

He grinned, pulling back his brass knuckles and punching through the window.

 

_Glorious entry.! Top ten material-_

 

_LEFT._

 

Wade ducked, throwing a knife into the kneecap of a guard to the left who faltered in his aim, shooting a picture frame off the wall. 

 

He turned back, taking one look at the guy trying to usher his target back and swiftly punching him in the throat.

 

_Ooh, that’ll do some damage with the knuckles._

 

_Not lethal, though. Probably._

 

He grabbed the politician, whistling loud and shrill, feeling the tug between his shoulder blades.

 

He saluted, managing a quick “see ya” as Spidey yanked him and his package out the window with his webs. 

 

_Their faces oh my god._

 

Wade cackled, in total agreement with Yellow, when the shock seemed to wear off before the logic set in and the politician began struggling desperately out of his arms. 

 

He hushed her soothingly, adjusting one of his arms into the sleeper hold. “Dream of the fire again.”

 

_Obscure reference._

 

_Bonus points if anyone gets it._

 

The body went lax in his arms just as they finally stopped swinging through New York and landed on a rooftop. 

 

Spidey landed with a fancy flip in front of him, instantly hurrying to his side. “What did you do? You weren’t meant to hurt her!”

 

“And I didn’t! See!” He thrust her towards Spidey, her head lolling backward.

 

_Okay, that doesn’t look great._

 

_A very unattractive angle for her._

 

Spidey checked her over, almost insultingly thoroughly, before finally stepping back with a sigh. 

 

“Such little faith in me, baby boy.” Wade tutted, hoisting the limp body back under one arm. She was pretty dumpy, and short enough that her heels didn’t drag on the floor in this position. 

 

 _Which is great, coz that’s_ **_super_ ** _fucking annoying._

 

He jolted as Spidey patted his shoulder, “Yeah. Pretty smooth job. No deaths either. Good work, Wade.”

 

“Deadpool in the mask, baby boy.” Wade corrected, a little heady with the praise.

 

_He basically said we didn’t fuck up, hardly a compliment. Pull your shit together._

 

“So, Weasel leaked that information to my source yet?” 

 

Wade yanked himself back to reality, shuffling to pull out his phone. “Yeah, he text a while back.” He shoved his phone away, “You guys gonna be good on this? A lot of people aren’t gonna want this published.”

 

Spidey snorted, and Wade could feel the eye roll in his guts. Maybe near his liver? 

 

_Probably just the cancer._

 

“Trust me, it’ll get published. They’re all about ‘shocking truths’ so this will probably be the first true thing they’ve published in a while.”

 

Wade frowned, “So… Will anyone believe it?” 

 

“Don’t worry, my guy’s feeding the source information straight to the police. He’s credible. They’ll believe him.” Peter offered to take the body off Wade, who struggled not to drool at how easily baby boy held her in one hand. 

 

“Time to take her to the police.”

 

Wade sighed dreamily, “My favourite Uber.”

 

“You coming?”

 

Wade felt his eyes widen, pointing at himself, “Me? I’m invited?”

 

“Well”, Spidey fidgeted, “Yeah, as you’re trying to be more moral and do the right thing, I just thought…”

 

_He paid attention to our rambling?_

 

_We don’t even do that._

 

“Yeah”, Wade coughed to clear his throat. “Hell yeah. My idea of a great Sunday night, hitting up the police station with my baby boy.”

 

He could sense the eye roll through the mask again, but Spidey’s voice stayed warm as he shifted the body up into his arms and turned to face his back toward Wade. 

 

“Hop on.”

 

Wade’s grin near split his face, cheeks burning a little with the strain. “Hell yeah!” 

 

He wrapped his arms around Spidey’s shoulders, holding on tight as they swung through the streets to the station. 

 

**

 

Despite the police initially assuming Wade was there to attack them or be admitted once they spotted Spidey, it went pretty smooth after that. They’d received the file from Spidey’s source, and now they had his backup on it they took their charge and locked her up. 

 

Leaving Spidey and Wade sat on a favourite rooftop where you could see the lights glistening off the river, and close to the food truck that had provided the delicious foodstuffs they were now shoving in their faces. 

 

A successful mission, overall. 

 

_Shame we won’t be getting paid, though._

 

_No wonder Spidey’s so poor._

 

Wade swallowed his mouthful, digging through the bag for another taco. “So, you seem pretty smart Spidey-babe.”

 

“Thanks.” He deadpanned, Wade continuing regardless.

 

“You’re welcome. But how come you ain’t earning the big bucks with that big juicy brain of yours?” He crunched into his food, watching as Spidey shrugged.

 

“Science isn’t overly valued at the moment. Those who do value it are rare, so the positions that pay are competitive. I often miss the recruitment drive where I get so busy and uh… Yeah.” 

 

Wade nodded, licking sauce from his sleeve. “Makes sense. They should recognise you, baby boy. You’re outta this world. Don’t you make most your shit?”

 

He could see the crooked smile where the mask was pushed up, and if that didn’t send pleasant shivers up his spine. 

 

“Yeah, hope so. Sick of being broke.” 

 

_We could fix that._

 

Wade sucked on his teeth, focussing on getting whatever was stuck there out.

 

_Tell him._

 

_He wouldn’t be interested-_

 

_But we should try. Tell him!_

 

“If you need money, uh-” Wade hesitated at the way Spidey tensed up, lips suddenly downturn. 

 

_Shit._

 

“I mean, if you’re struggling, I earn a lot, so-” 

 

Spidey’s jaw flexed, hand twitching around the remaining half of his taco, the straining shell reminding Wade of his own very breakable skull. 

 

“You could-”

 

_Abort!!_

 

“- maybe… Join me. On some missions. Get paid.”

 

Spidey remained frozen.

 

_Do us a favour and stay quiet for once in you goddamn life-_

 

“I mean, not the killing ones. Obvz. But I’ve not actually been taking those for months now-”

 

_Oh god, he’s babbling._

 

_STOP!_

 

“- And I don’t mind going halves. And having my favourite bugman with me would be really fucking great and-”

 

“Thanks, Pool.” Spidey cut him off, grip easing a little on his food. “I’ll… Think about it.” 

 

Wade felt himself relax as Spidey shoved the remaining half of his taco in his mouth, tension suddenly dissipated. 

 

_I thought for sure we were gonna break Spidey’s no killing streak._

 

_I did think he was gonna kick us into a wall._

 

_Did we pee a little?_

 

“So, we’ve taken one job from him.” Spidey sprayed crumbs as he spoke, swallowing hard before continuing. “Any clue what’s next?” 

 

Wade grinned, “And an excellent job we did, Spideypool strike again!” 

 

He tried to ignore the intense need to squeeze Spidey as his baby boy sagged a little in disappointment when there was nothing left in the take out bag. 

 

_Next time we buy the whole taco stand like I said we should._

 

“I’ve got Weasel keeping an eye out for any activity. Once he spots something, he’ll let me know.” 

 

Spidey went to nod only to freeze, head cocked. 

 

_Like a hound._

 

“What is it, boy?” Wade cooed, leaning in. 

 

Spidey sprung to action, jerking his mask back in place. “Trouble.” He flung a hand at where Wade still sat. 

 

Wade took the proffered hand, standing up and bouncing on his toes, “Let’s go!”

 

“Oh”, Spidey hesitated, pointing at Wade’s feet. “I meant the garbage.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

_What a fucking idiot._

 

_Why would you ever assume he meant you? Now we look fucking stu-_

 

“You… Want to come?”

 

Wade blinked.

 

“Make it a fast decision, we gotta go.”

 

Wade grinned. “Hell yeah!” 

 

Spidey nodded, turning around, “Hop on and let’s go then.”

 

Wade went to jump forward before Spidey stopped him, “Don’t forget the garbage, though.”

 

Wade tittered, balling up the paper bag and shoving it in one of his pouches. “Wouldn’t want to be a _litter bug_.”

 

Spidey groaned, Wade cackling as he clung to his shoulders and they swung over to the scene.

 

**

 

By the time Peter got back home from patrol, he didn’t feel anywhere near as exhausted as usual. Maybe the Avengers were onto a good idea with that whole teamwork shtick. 

 

Probably helped that he didn’t have to really wrangle Deadpool like usual. Maybe the guy was just in a good mood, but things rarely went that smoothly between them, but this time every crime they stopped not only pulled off without a hitch but was even enjoyable with someone else there to bounce his usual commentary off of. 

 

Or maybe it was just Peter’s relief that Deadpool wasn’t the killer. 

 

Not to say the actual killer may not be an absolute nightmare, but Deadpool was lethal, unpredictable, and difficult to contain. Peter rubbed at his eyes, stretching on the sofa just to feel the satisfying pop of his limbs. He sighed, dragging over his laptop to stick on a movie when an alert came up for one of his keywords. 

 

In the police database, of all places. He used Weasel’s login in and froze, gaping at the screen. 

 

Suicide. In police cells. Jennifer Tucker. Their mark for this evening. 

 

Peter’s hand flew to his mouth, scrolling through the details. His breath caught at the images. 

 

“Oh god”, He groaned, shoving the laptop to one side and rushing to the bathroom as his tacos from earlier made a reappearance, burning the whole way. 

 

He shuddered, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand and slumping against the tile wall, head barely fitting under the sink. He shut his eyes, the images flickering behind his eyelids; of gore splattered against the wall, pooling around the woman’s head as her eyes gazed blankly ahead, the impact marks, the chunk of scalp in the corner. 

 

He swallowed hard, opening his eyes. They had failed. 

 

He punched the wall, breathing forcefully as he clenched his jaw. 

 

He got up, brushing his teeth and tongue at the sink. He caught his own eye in the mirror, beard shadowing his jaw like a promise, eyes sunken smudges, lips cracked. He looked like shit. He ran a hand through his hair, huffing and turning off the tap. 

 

He picked up his phone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, it's been a while ;w; Been reading all of Spiderkatana's work back to back. I wanna thank alpha_dawg for that ridiculously long lovely comment which gave me the kick up the ass necessary to edit this chapter and post it. As Wade would say, bone apple tits.

“Fuuuuuck”, Wade breathed. 

 

“What? What the fuck is it now?” Weasel questioned, putting down the mug he’d been further dirtying with his dishrag. “If this is another stupid fucking meme I swear to god, Wade-”

 

Wade turned to Weasel, letting his phone drop down to the bartop. “That fucker we just saved only went and fucking died anyway.”

 

Weasel squinted, “Well, where did you put her?”

 

“Prison.”

 

Weasel snorted, “Well, there’s your mistake ya dingus. That’s like putting the fish in the barrel and handing your contract killer the gun and asking ‘Will that be one bullet or two, sire?”

 

“Okay-”

 

“That’s like basting the pig before letting it loose in the hunting grounds-”

 

“Weasel-”

 

“-That’s like keeping a sweet baby refugee safe in the arms of the Catholic church-”

 

“Alright!” Wade cut him off, “I get it already! Fuck. Thought maybe baby boy knew what he was doing. Shit.”

 

Wade groaned.

 

_ You should have mentioned it like we told you to.  _

 

_ This is your fault, and he’s gonna realise and never work with us again. _

 

_ Yeah nice work, idiot.  _

 

_ Fucking moron.  _

 

Wade growled, getting up from the stool. 

 

Weasel brandished his dish towel after Wade. “Hey, where the hell are you going?”

 

Wade shrugged on his jacket, walking away. “Finding a better storage option.”

 

“No I meant pay your fucking tab!” 

 

The door slammed, Weasel’s grumbled “asshole” going unheard.

 

**

 

Peter woke from a rare deep sleep to tapping at his window. 

 

Well, he says tapping. Really it was pretty loud banging, rattling, and the muffled sound of curses. 

 

Peter sighed, reaching into his pillowcase for his emergency mask and tugging it on before making his way out to the living room where Deadpool stood on the fire escape waving frantically. 

 

He unlatched the window, tugging it open. “Why are you here, Pool?”

 

The merc pushed past into the room, Peter stumbling back and going to rub his eyes before he remembered the mask. 

 

“So, bad news about our target, she’s dead, but! I’ve been up all night figuring out an alternative to our storage problem.” 

 

Peter grumbled to indicate he was listening, shuffling over to his stove to start boiling some water. 

 

“I found one through some light begging and promises made and  _ maybe  _ some name-dropping.” The merc tugged off his mask, running it under the sink tap. “Small sidenote, those sweatpants are fucking sinful on you, sugarplum. Almost as good as the spandex.  _ Almost. _ ”

 

Peter squinted into the sink running red water before looking up at the merc’s face, and yep that was dried blood. “What happened to your face?”

 

“You just noticing now, baby boy? Poor perception skills.” The merc kept his eyes locked on where he rinsed blood out his mask, shrugging. “Unbridled cancer followed by genetic experimentation, then more cancer.”

 

Peter frowned, flapping his hand and shaking his head. It was too early for this. “No, not that, the blood. Your face is covered in it.”

 

The merc’s eyes widened as it clicked, “Ohhh. That’s just a natural reaction people have when they see me. What’s a broken nose between friends? Well, more shattered than broken, but eh. What you gonna do?”

 

“Get better friends?”

 

Wade glanced at him, smile twitching up, “You worried about me, Webs? I’m touched.”

 

Peter grunted, pouring the barely boiled water into his drip filter. “Just think maybe friends don’t make friends bleed that much.”

 

Wade hummed, turning off the tap and wringing out the mask. “Don’t know enough about friends to debate that.”

 

Peter pushed the merc’s hands down as he went to replace the now soaked mask on his face. “No, don’t. If you want something to cover your face, I got some spares. At least let it dry.”

 

Wade grinned, some of the dried blood flaking off. “Chance to wear your mask, baby boy? Hell yeah!”

 

Peter winced at the volume level, waving him away and turning back to his coffee. “Clean your face first, go use the bathroom mirror.”

 

The merc stood to attention, saluting. “Yes, sir!” 

 

Peter rubbed his temples at the jaunty tune Wade whistled as he skipped to the bathroom. He didn’t let the coffee cool before he took a gulp, not that the water was overly hot to start with. It would do for the purpose, he hoped. 

 

He dazedly dug in his coach cushion for a spare mask before the caffeine seemed to hit his system, jerking to stand in the bathroom doorway. “Wait, who did you ask for help? Who’s helping? What did you tell them?”

 

“Whoa there, cowboy.” Wade turned to Peter, face dripping water and eyes standing out bluer than usual. “I asked for the most stable, heh horse pun, legit help I could that I vaguely trust… Or at least Whitey does, which is close enough; the X-Men. I told them nothing, just said I’d owe them big next time the massive nerds needed help. May have name-dropped that you were in on the operation to stop any more questions, but they’re less likely to tattle us in than the Avengers, after that whole debacle with Cap and his boyfriend on ice not even ol' Yeller trusts ‘em.”

 

Peter nodded, lost in thought. The X-men did have a good amount of resources at their disposal. And if they were told to just keep someone and had  _ agreed,  _ well. They would likely be more secure than in the prison. 

 

Peter tensed on reflex as Wade’s hand twitched towards him, the merc throwing them up in surrender. 

 

“Just lookin’ for that mask, baby boy”, He pointed helpfully at the mask still held loosely in Peter’s hand. 

 

Peter nodded, tossing it over. “Right, sorry.”

 

Wade shrugged, tension noticeably leaving him as he tugged the mask on. “Nah, I’m sorry you keep havin’ to see me out of the mask. I’m like a Guillermo Del Toro monster after a bad acid trip.”

 

Peter shook his head, “You keep saying stuff like that, you’re not some hideous creature. You just have scars.”

 

Wade’s head cocked, Peter feeling a little disoriented at his own mask staring back at him from the top of the Deadpool suit. “You’re either blind or some kinda martyr, but don’t worry. I don’t need the coddling, baby boy.”

 

Peter huffed through his nose, crossing his arms, “Wasn’t saying it to coddle you, just sick of you constantly being shitty to yourself. Gets old real fast.”

 

They stood staring at one another for what felt like a tick too long before Wade finally relaxed his posture, melting back into the humour that Peter was starting to recognise as a safety blanket. 

 

“Well, I’ll be sure to liven up the stand-up routine in future, Webs. How ya feel about political humour?" He flapped his hand, "Nah, never mind, that’ll just age this fic real fast.”

 

Peter shook his head, rolling his eyes and returning to his coffee in the kitchen. 

 

He took a sip, sighing a little at the blessed caffeine. 

 

Wade hummed, leaning against the wall. “You know, could get real used to this. All domestic and cute lil’ house spider.”

 

Peter sighed for an entirely different reason. “Well, if that’s all your news, I’d kind of like to enjoy my first  _ quiet  _ morning off in a while.”

 

“Ah, gotcha.” The merc flashed him finger guns before collapsing on the sofa. “So you wanna watch some Golden Girls? Or, no, I’ll let you pick. It’s your morning.”

 

Peter clenched his hand, having to consciously relax before he shattered the mug and had a mess to clean up that wasn’t just Deadpool. He considered putting in the effort of throwing the merc out, but he had on his mask and he just… Couldn’t muster up the energy to care, actually. 

 

He collapsed on the sofa next to the merc, using his feet to shove him away and make more room. Wade just took his feet, dumping them in his lap and passing Peter the controller. 

 

Peter rolled his eyes again, leaving his feet where they were as actually, the warmth of Deadpool's lap made him realise he’d been a little cold before. 

 

He ended up shoving on Golden Girls, Deadpool limiting himself to just quoting the show word for word as it played. 

 

Peter said nothing about how accurate his inflections were. 

 

**

 

So Wade had Spidey gently snoring in his lap, had nabbed the last of the coffee in his mug which was  _ delicious,  _ AND Golden Girls was playing. 

 

_ Shit, is this heaven? Did we officially die? _

 

_ I don’t remember us dying recently, but shit. Maybe. _

 

Wade hummed happily, clicking to confirm he was still watching as he rested the now empty mug on the floor. 

 

Of course it couldn’t last, Webs jumping near enough onto the ceiling when Wade’s phone started ringing. 

 

Wade cursed, digging out his phone. He waved it at Spidey, showing it to not be the lethal device his laboured breathing seemed to be expecting before answering it. 

 

“What the FUCK is up, Kyle?”

 

Weasel’s voice sounded even more nasally through the phone’s speakers, “Just me, apparently still doing shit for your ungrateful ass. Don’t piss your pants, but we got wind of your guy’s next job.”

 

Wade squealed, turning to Webs, “Got our next job already, Spidey-babe!”

 

“Wait, Spidey’s there? Why are you with him at… Shit 8AM.” Weasel sounded incredulous, “Shit, did you actually get to tap that?”

 

Wade smirked, buffing his nails on his suit. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

 

Spidey yanked the phone from his hand, “Hey, this is Spider-Man. He broke into my home at 6AM and stole my coffee. Tell me the details.”

 

Wade leant on his hands, watching as Spidey stood talking on the phone. 

 

_ Should we be paying attention to what’s being said? _

 

_ Maybe, but also, look how hot he is in business mode.  _

 

_ True. Like him all up in  _ **_my_ ** _ business. _

 

Wade didn’t react in time to stop his phone landing in his face, ending the call. 

 

Spidey strode back to his room, calling over his shoulder, “Get your mask back on, we got somewhere to be.”

 

**

 

“Her name is Felicity Kent, reportedly the daughter of one of Grace’s men.”

 

Wade nodded, scratching at the edges of his mask where the drying material was itching only for Spidey to slap his hands away. 

 

“Likely he suspects some kind of disloyalty. Maybe it’s a scare tactic, maybe it’s punishment-”

 

“How old?”

 

Spidey’s head twitched to look at Wade, pausing for only half a breath before going back to watching the library doors. 

 

“She’s sixteen.”

 

“She’s a grandmother”, Wade muttered half to himself. 

 

He saw Spidey’s muscles tense and damn he couldn’t even appreciate the show when he knew it was a sure sign baby boy was upset with him. 

 

He ignored Yellow making the sound of a cracking whip.

 

Spidey kept his eyes ahead as his jaw worked. “I’m sorry, please tell me you wouldn’t have taken this job. Otherwise, I don’t think I can keep covering for you with the Avengers-”

 

“Wow. I’m both offended and flattered. Good job, peaches.” Wade hunkered down further in the tree they were sat in. “No, I don’t deal with kids. I mean maybe some chaotic neutral shenanigans, but nothing scarring or permanent.”

 

_ Except gory deaths in front of them. _

 

_ We tell them to close their eyes! And video games started it! _

 

“Still, back on point. You cover for me with the nerd squad?”

 

Spidey shrugged a little, still staring at the door. “They jump to conclusions when someone doesn’t operate the specific way they like. I thought I could see you trying to be something… Better. Wanted to give you a chance.”

 

Wade cocked his head, “But you thought I was murdering innocent people? And a fair assumption, with the track record. But doesn’t seem to run in line with the story you got going for me.”

 

“I’m aware of my own biases. I try not to act on them where I can.”

 

“Huh”, Wade looked over Spidey, who hadn’t budged for the whole of the conversation. “You really are a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in spandex. With that ass, you’re perfect marriage material. Lookin’ to get hitched, make an honest woman outta me?”

 

“There she is.” Spidey leapt down, leaving Wade to half fall out of the tree after him. 

 

“And ignoring me.”

 

_ Just our type. _

 

_ Obscure reference guys, you’ll alienate the audience.  _

 

Spidey had started by trying to walk casually towards the girl, but as soon as she saw them she took off running. 

 

Wade slapped Spidey’s shoulder as he ran past in pursuit. “I got this! You go up and keep eyes on her!” 

 

_ Can’t ruin his image, good idea.  _

 

“Don’t explain the story to them, White. It’s patronising.” Wade grabbed hold of a lampost to swing round in a sharp turn down the alley the girl darted down. 

 

_ Yeah, White. _

 

_ Fuck both of you. _

 

The girl tugged a door, disappearing into a building. 

 

Wade cursed, pushing to follow and finding himself in a kitchen. 

 

Wade ran through the space after the flash of a ponytail, ducking around the multiple bodies and causing chaos. “Shit, fuck. Hey, nice knife. Is that Japanese? Mine now. Do I smell burning or am I having a stroke?”

 

_ Pay attention! _

 

_ DUCK! _

 

“Duck is on the menu?” When suddenly he found a burning pan smashed into his face. He curled against the searing pain, “Ow, fuck! Never mind, it’s just me. Ahh, shit. Who ordered medium well done?”

 

He squinted open his watering eyes to see the girl holding the pan over her shoulder, ready to strike. 

 

He held up his hands, “Hey, hold on, Rapunzel, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

 

“Who sent you?”

 

“No one, but people are on their way to hurt you-”

 

“Keep your hands up, asshole!”

 

_ Smart girl. _

 

Wade inched his hands back up from where he’d been inching towards a hidden side pocket. “Alright, fine.” His eyes flicked down, assessing the posture, anything nearby he could use. 

 

“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to work so-”

 

**“Shut the fuck up-”**

 

Wade gasped, spinning back to the girl. “Jinx! Double jinx, personal padlock!”

 

The girl snarled, shifting her grip only to gasp and drop the pan. 

 

_ Ha ha, burn karma. _

 

Wade was on her in a flash, her hissing and spitting like that feral cat he tried to make friends with once. 

 

Several of the cooks stepped forward, “Hey, man. What do you think you’re doing, she’s just a kid-”

 

Wade groaned, “Fucking bystanders.” 

 

As he went to shift his grip to grab a nearby knife-

 

_ Oooh, we were right. Japanese steel, baybee. _

 

-Spidey stumbled into the kitchen. 

 

“Oh, thank god.”

 

Several of the cooks hesitated, muttering to each other. “Is that Spider-man? What’s he doing with this guy?”

 

Spidey held up a hand to the audience, “Sorry about that, guys. Official superhero business. We’ll let you get back to your jobs now, right Pool?”

 

Wade nodded, having to tighten his grip on the girl as she subtly tried to slip away. 

 

“Great”, Spidey grabbed the girl by the arm, turning them back to the back door. “Thanks guys!” 

 

Wade definitely didn’t quietly slip the pretty knife into his pocket, and also didn’t laugh at Spidey’s awkward little salute as they left. 

 

Spidey sighed as the door closed, spinning to look at the girl who jutted her jaw in defiance. 

 

_ Be more impressive if she got better at that poker face.  _

 

_ Looks like she’s about to piss herself.  _

 

_ Why she so scared with Spidey here? _

 

“Good point, Yellow. Why are you so scared of Spidey, Gordon Ramsey?”

 

The girl sniffed, eyes still shifty. “I’m not.”

 

Wade tilted his head, pretending to sniff the air. “I can smell your fear, Clarice.”

 

“Deadpool”, Spidey reprimanded, “You’re not helping.” He turned back to the girl, “You don’t need to be scared, Felicity. We’re here to help you.”

 

She scowled even as her eyes grew watery. “I’m not telling you anything. I know my rights.”

 

Spidey started to say “What would you need to tell us?” even as Wade shrugged and said “you don’t need to say shit, sweetpea.” 

 

Her eyes shifted between them. Even though her confusion was clear, she stuck to her word and refused to even make a peep. 

 

“Okay, well.” Wade lifted the girl into a fireman’s lift, ignoring her legs kicking him on the nose that he’d  _ just  _ healed from the impromptu tenderising earlier. “Let’s get this package off to the depot, baby boy.” 

 

**

 

Peter ended up having to web up Felicity to get her safely to the mansion, he couldn’t have her dropped over Manhattan with a misplaced kick. It really didn’t help make her more agreeable, and although she still didn't say a word it didn’t stop her hissing like an angry cat. 

 

In the end, only Deadpool was talking. And the merc was living up to his nickname, running his mouth fast enough to fill any silence on the way over.

 

Peter would have left him to walk, but the merc had the forethought to bring his grappling hook this time, and he was annoyingly good at keeping up with Peter’s webslinging. 

 

Colossus raised a brow as he opened the door to the trio. 

 

Deadpool grinned, leaning against the doorway and flourishing an arm at where Peter stood with a vice grip around where Felicity still fought to escape. “Perfectly packaged, expertly delivered. And that’s just talkin’ about Spidey.”

 

“Wade.” Colossus turned to Peter, voice gentling to a more cordial tone. “Spider-man, good to see you. Wade has not given us much information, what are we meant to be doing with the young lady?”

 

“Whoa there, big boy. This isn’t a kink negotiation, she’s practically a baby!” He leaned in to stage-whisper, "And not legal."

 

Peter ignored the merc’s antics, shifting his grip a little. “She just needs somewhere safe to stay. Some people are looking to hurt her, but she doesn’t really want our help, so…”

 

Colossus nodded, “We have enough experience of that with this one”, He nodded at Wade, who bleated out a weak “hey!” 

 

Colossus held out his hand, “We can protect the young lady.”

 

“Felicity.” Peter corrected, handing her off to Colossus. 

 

Her eyes bugged out, turning to squeak at them, “The X-Men?”

 

“Ha!” Wade crowed, pointing in her face, “Made ya talk! Point, Deadpool. Have fun chickadee, we’ll be on our way.”

 

He spun on his heel, moving to walk away as Peter stepped forward to address her. 

 

“We’re not lying, Felicity. We aren’t too sure what’s going on, all we know is you were due to be hurt today. If you know anything about why that would be happening, we just want to help.” 

 

He thought of all the victims so far. His aunt’s friend in a pool of her own blood. Hernandez. Now even Tucker, still in her cell. 

 

His voice was a little hoarse, “Please.”

 

Felicity frowned, eyes shifting between them. He could see the uncertainty dancing across them. 

 

“Okay. If what you said is true… My dad has been trying to leave the group for a while now. We were planning on moving away. Starting fresh. If he’s been found out, they may be looking to use me to get to him.”

 

“Why you?” Peter ducked a little to chase where her eyes danced away. “You seemed to be expecting it.”

 

She pouted, jaw working. “I… Don’t know. Just whatever they’re doing now, my dad doesn’t like it. Something to do with this old cult, religious stuff. And since then, he’s become real protective of me.” Her eyes flashed up to search his out in the mask, “Please, you’re meant to help people, right? I know my dad’s done a lot of bad stuff, but if they have figured out he’s trying to leave… He needs help. Please.”

 

Peter nodded, gripping her shoulder. “Of course I will. Where can we find him?”

 

“He works for Mr Grace. And I know that dad always said that Mr Grace deals with his own himself. But… I don’t know where they would be.”

 

“Okay”, Peter patted her shoulder. “You stay here, where you’ll be safe. We’ll find your dad.”

 

Colossus frowned at him as he straightened up, “This sounds like a big deal. Are you needing assistance?”

 

“Uhh, thanks big guy”, Deadpool reappeared at Peter’s shoulder, throwing an arm around him. “But wouldn’t want you to third wheel all this sexual tension, you know? Although… How’s your wingman game?”

 

Peter shoved him away, “It’s pure luck you’re even helping, and I regret it more every second. And thanks, really, but you’re already helping more than enough.”

 

Peter contained his sigh as Colossus nodded. He’d hate owing the X-Men any favours. He didn’t mind helping, but he liked having a choice over it. 

 

“We’ll come back once this mess is all sorted out.”

 

Colossus waved them away, “Sure, sure. Go, continue with your work. We will be fine.”

 

Felicity looked nervous at the giant metal hand on her shoulder, Deadpool blowing a kiss as they left.

 

**

 

Keeping up with baby boy with just the one grappling hook was hard fucking work. But the view of that ass was a great motivator. 

 

_ Like a carrot on a stick.  _

 

_ Wouldn’t mind that ass on our stick.  _

 

The drop off to the mansion had gone pretty smooth, baby boy using his superhero-next-door charms to even get the girl to talk. 

 

They ended up on the roof of a nightclub, the bass barely felt through their feet. Spidey landing with grace and poise, Wade landing… He landed. Let’s leave it there. 

 

Fuck, his knees. 

 

Wade did his best to turn the limp into a swagger as he moved to where Spidey crouched by the sign. “So, you finally taking me dancing, baby boy?”

 

Spidey yanked him down.

 

_ Ooh la la. _

 

“I’d say I’m not that kind of girl, but I’d be lying.” Wade threw his arms wide, “Take me!”

 

Spidey covered Wade’s mouth, narrowing his eyes at him. “We’re waiting to see if Gellum still turns up to do his hit. Hopefully news that we have Felicity hasn’t reached him yet.”

 

Wade grinned, Spidey yelping and tugging his hand away.

 

“Did you just lick me?”

 

Wade hummed, licking his lips, “When the opportunity for a taste presents itself, baby boy.” 

 

Spidey shook his head, muttering to himself about how he could even feel it through the mask. Wade shrugged, giggling at what he could make out of Spidey’s expression in the glow of the neon pink sign. 

 

Spidey wiped his hand on his suit, Wade scooting up so his back leant against the sign, digging through his pouches for something to do. He huffed a little, where the fuck was-

 

_ Remember it got disintegrated when WE got disintegrated last time we visited Wakanda. _

 

Wade whined, “Aw man, my GameBoy.”

 

Spidey shook his head, turning back to watch for anybody walking toward the alleyway beside them. 

 

“So, Spidey”, Wade started wrapping some red twine he’s found around his fingers, “Bro bonding moment, full homo. What do you do in your spare time?”

 

“This is my spare time.”

 

Wade felt his eyes bug out, spinning to face his baby boy fully. “Super-heroing is your  _ hobby?” _ , he squeaked, “Damn, what else do you do? Are you a secret agent? I’d guess the president but the build is way too tight. Unless you wear a fat suit- GASP! Webs, why do you hate gay people?”

 

Spidey shoved him, “I’m nobody important. I’m just a regular guy out of the suit. But I work so that I can afford to live. And I can’t really afford to lose my job.”

 

_ Is this the Sugar Daddy Pool opportunity we’ve been waiting for? _

 

_ Or, guys, wait. This could be the beautiful team up opportunity. _

 

_ Damn, u right.  _

 

“Hey, you could do some mercin’ with me!”

 

Spidey cut him down immediately. “No thanks.”

 

Wade pouted, sidling up a little. “We could only take the jobs you approve of. No killing, just what you’d do usually but getting paid for it!”

 

Spidey glanced at him, pausing a little. “... I don’t want to muddy my motivations. I do this because it’s the right thing to do. Not for a paycheck. Not for me. I do this for my city, and I don’t want to change that.”

 

Wade slumped back, fiddling with his string into a poor imitation of a cat’s cradle. He sighed a little as he tied his hands in knots. “I figured, Spidey. You’re way too good for us.”

 

_ Hey! Speak for yourself! _

 

_ Hey guys, wait. We may need to- _

 

Spidey jerked up, head tilting. Wade turned to ask only to fling himself forward, pushing Spidey out of the way on instinct. 

 

Spidey wriggled out from under him, Wade humming, “Mm, careful you’re pressing all my buttons.”

 

“Shit, Wade, you’ve been shot!”

 

Wade looked down to see the blood dripping from his stomach. “Holey me, you’re right!”

 

“They must have been aiming at-”

 

_ DUCK. _

 

Wade lurched forward, pushing Spidey down and jerking away as he felt another bullet lodge in his back. 

 

He flopped on his face, unable to move. He giggled, more than a little delirious, “Ooh, tingles. Think they got my spine, baby boy. Better go get ‘em.”

 

“Fuck, okay. Don’t move!”

 

Wade laughed as Spidey webbed away toward the gunman. “Ha! Good one, coz I’m paralysed.” 

 

_ Well we’re bored.  _

 

_ Yeah, we said duck, idiot. Why’d you have to go get shot in the spine? Now we’re stuck here while all the fun’s happening.  _

 

_ Heal faster, Wade. This is boring.  _

 

Wade grit his teeth, sniping at the boxes, “Well sorry, your highness. I can’t exactly bring the fight to us.”

 

His ears twitched as he heard boots across the roof towards them, unable to do anything as one of them nudged his limp body over. 

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

_ Looks like the fight came to us.  _

 

The man looming over him snarled,  “Who the fuck are you, and what were you doing with my grandma?”

 

_ Where the fuck is Spidey? _

 

“Well howdy, Gellum. My, how you’ve grown.” Wade wheezed a little as the boot pressed harder into his diaphragm. 

 

_ He’s coming, right? _

 

“Cut the BS and start talkin’”, Gellum cocked the gun pointing at his face, he jerked his head behind him. “How’d you get Spider-man to work with you?”

 

Wade swallowed, still unable to move his limbs. 

 

_ Why can’t we Uma Therman this?  _

 

_ Hello? Can we get a nicer writer? _

 

“Well, first off. The BS is an integral part of my character. And second”, Wade grinned, “Spidey and I are a famous team up.” 

 

Gellum yelled as he was thrown off balance by the kick to the head from Spidey swinging in behind him. 

 

_ Nice, wasn’t sure the timing would work.  _

 

_ Always embarrassing when we fuck that up.  _

 

Gellum growled, twisting to shoot at where Spidey twisted through the air like a beautiful acrobat. 

 

Spidey shot out a web, managing to tug the gun from Gellum’s hands before landing in front of him to land a satisfying sucker punch. 

 

Wade cheered, “Nice, baby boy! Finish him!”

 

Gellum spat out blood, sliding a knife out of his boot before spinning to swipe at Spidey. 

 

“Shit, he brought a knife to a fist fight!”

 

“Well”, Spidey called out, “That’s an instant disqualification.” 

 

_ Zing. _

 

_ Meh, not the best he’s done.  _

 

He ducked under the knife, swiping out Gellum’s legs, only to miss the kick when Gellum rolled away and swung his knife at the back of Spidey’s legs. Spidey flipped out the way, Gellum picking up the gun and shooting at his retreating figure. 

 

Wade whooped at the fancy flip, Gellum turning towards him with a grimace. 

 

_ Oh, that’s always a fun look.  _

 

Gellum yanked Wade up, pointing the gun at his head. “Stop! Or I’ll fucking shoot him.”

 

Wade snorted, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, right. Not the best move, don't you know-”

 

Spidey held up his hands, standing panting in front of the pair. “Okay! Okay, look. We just need answers, don’t hurt him.”

 

The words dried up in Wade’s throat. 

 

_ The fuck is Webs doing? _

 

Gellum yanked on the collar of Wade’s suit, awkwardly choking him as he snarled at Spidey, blood dripping down his teeth. “I don’t see why I need to tell you  _ shit.  _ You shitheads have been stealing my work. Think I wouldn’t notice? Think I’m fucking stupid?”

 

Wade snorted, “I mean, yeah, kinda.”

 

Gellum yanked him up further, pain sharp as his collar cut into his neck, shoving the gun into his head. “What?”

 

_ Oh, this is too rich. _

 

“Pool! Don’t-”

 

Wade laughed, a little breathless. He felt his knee twitch. “In fact, I know you’re a stupid little bitch, Gellum. Go ahead, shoot me.”

 

Gellum growled as Spidey made an aborted move forward, crying out when Gellum pulled the trigger. An empty click sounded, Wade laughing harder as Gellum’s eyes widened and Wade kicked him in the balls. 

 

Wade whooped as Gellum fell to his knees.

 

“Always keep count, kid”, Wade jeered as Spidey rushed to web up Gellum. 

 

Wade bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms. He shoved his fingers into Gellum’s mouth, Spidey trying to shove him away. 

 

Wade fell back, Spidey glaring at him, “What the fuck, Pool?”

 

He held up the pill in his fingers with a grin, “Didn’t want this party end early.”

 

Spidey jerked back to look at Gellum, “You’d seriously have done that?”

 

Gellum glared at him, squaring his jaw. “Not for this job.” 

 

Wade settled on his haunches, smiling amicably. “Pay not that good, huh? Still. Must be pretty good for all those women you’ve been killing for Grace.”

 

Gellum’s eyes flashed before he looked away. “Yeah, it’s pretty good. Not good enough to go down with him.”

 

_ Whatever happened to us being the first one to call for these jobs? _

 

_ Yeah, how many have we missed out on? _

 

Wade pouted, “Good point, can’t believe he didn’t ask me.”

 

“What the fuck, Pool?”

 

Wade turned back to Spidey, “What? I wouldn’t have taken it. Just nice to be asked.”

 

“Do you think it’s Grace’s style, having some wannabe comedian running around in a red onesie?” 

 

_ Touché. _

 

“Back to the point!” Wade poked at Gellum’s chest, “Tell us what we need to know about Grace.”

 

“Please”, Baby boy added, because of course he did.

 

“Don’t know much. Don’t ask questions. But he gives me the information on my hits in a secure box at 39 and 5th.”

 

“Nice, now that wasn’t so hard.” Wade patted Gellum’s cheek, “Thanks, gorgeous.”

 

Gellum frowned as Wade stood back up, “Hey, you not gonna untie me? I told you everything I know, I swear.”

 

Wade nodded at Spidey, “That’d be boss’s decision. I like to pretend we’re equal partners, but everyone knows who wears the beautifully filled pants here.”

 

Spidey’s voice was quiet, and sent a little thrill of danger through Wade. “I get it. You were just following orders. But you followed them, and you will pay for that.”

 

Gellum shook his head, face pale. “No, please. I was just trying to provide for my grandma, you can’t do this-”

 

“And what about all those women you killed?” Spidey spat, cutting Gellum off. 

 

Gellum blanched, Wade moving to throw an arm around Spidey’s shoulders. 

 

“Don’t piss yourself just yet, soldier. Webs here won’t kill ya, not part of his code.” He glanced at where Spidey had flinched at his words. “Right?”

 

“Of course not”, He ground out. “But you carry him, looking at him is making me feel sick.”

 

Wade frowned, looking Spidey over. “Of course I can, scuttlebug. Where you lead, I follow.”

 

Spidey nodded jerkily, walking to the edge of the roof, waiting for Wade to pick up Gellum so they could meet his contact in Shield. 

 

The boxes quietly bringing up questions Wade stubbornly tried to ignore.

 

_ If he really finds killing that abhorrent, are we ever even going to be friends? _

 

_ How does he really feel about us? _

 

**

 

Wade managed to convince Spidey to let him book them a room in the hotel opposite Grace's drop site. He couldn't convince him that taking shifts was a good idea, so they were both awake; Spidey sitting tense by the window with Wade sat on the only bed by the nightstand, methodically cleaning his guns. 

 

He wasn't too sure how long it had been-

 

_ About 3 hours. _

 

_ And 49 minutes. _

 

\- but he knew he'd taken his sweet time cleaning the last three guns. A damn long time for Wade to be quiet. But he was scared what the boxes would have him say if he opened his mouth. But that fear was swiftly being outweighed by his fear of being left alone with his thoughts. 

 

_ And what are we, figments of your imagination? _

 

_ Probably. _

 

_ Rude! _

 

"So", He caught the twitch of Spidey's muscles out the corner of his eyes as he focused on polishing Arthur to a high shine. "Are we doing some stewing in our own thoughts, or can we make this a hotpot?"

 

Spidey shifted against the windowsill, "Not much to discuss. Grace is in some cult, ordering these deaths, and not even their age or relationship to him is slowing him down."

 

Wade nodded slow, "Yeah, sounds about right." He set Arthur back down, turning his full attention to where Spidey sat, ramrod straight. "But this seems to be getting to you more than usual. Care to share with the group?"

 

_ Ooh, I do! _

 

_ Yellow- _

 

_ I'm sad. _

 

_ We know, Yellow. Shut the fuck up. _

 

There was a heavy silence, the boxes' bickering growing heated, before Spidey rolled his shoulders. 

 

"I… It's not just this. This got to me, yeah, there's been so many people I couldn't save already, and they... Grace got an amazing cop who's done a lot of good for this neighbourhood." 

 

He watched as Spidey's head bumped against the glass, wide white eyes of the mask reflected back. "But I'm also…" Spidey spun to look at him, "You saved my life earlier."

 

_ Damsel in distress style. _

 

_ We should get Spidey a dress. _

 

Wade shrugged, wobbling a palm, "I saved you from a pretty nasty bullet wound or two. You woulda been fine, you can look after yourself."

 

Spidey persisted, "I could have died. And it would have been all my fault."

 

_ Oh no, saviour complex. _

 

_ Hero complex? _

 

_ It's some kinda complex. _

 

Wade frowned, "You loaded his gun?"

 

"No! But… Look, I've been trying my best-"

 

_ Don't like where this is going. _

 

Spidey made an aborted attempt to reach for his head before clenching his fists. "I know you're trying to be better. I know that! But you've tried so many times, and it's been me that looks the fool each time you go back. Me that gets let down. I kept on hoping this would be it that I just…"

 

_ Oh. _

 

Wade watched as Spidey's chest heaved, clenching his jaw to stop himself talking over Spidey. Baby boy needed this, and he wasn't about to make a shitty joke and ruin it. 

 

Spidey made a choked off noise, Wade digging his nails into his palms to focus on the biting pain. 

 

"I knew something was about to happen, because of my Spidey sense. But I assumed… I thought it was you, about to turn on me. When you pushed me down I-" 

 

Another aborted move to his head before his hands slapped back down to his sides. "It wasn't until I saw you bleeding on me I realised it wasn't you. You could have died. I could have died. I could have fucked this all up just because I couldn't bring myself to give you one more chance, I-" 

 

_ Oh no. _

 

_ Quick, fix it! _

 

He gasped, shuddering, Wade rushing over and patting him awkwardly like he was a scared horse. 

 

"Baby boy, Webs, no. Don't feel bad. You're right not to trust me. I'm just some crazy merc no one can get rid of." He hesitated a little before settling into rubbing across Spidey's back. 

 

"You did the right thing. I'm shocked every time you trust me, you're honestly a fucking saint for how many times you've given me a chance. Everyone else gave up on me a long time ago. You're the only one in the whole universe that still thinks I can be something better than what I am, I'm sorry I fucked that up." 

 

Spidey sniffed, rubbing at his mask.

 

"And I lied when I said you're no fun, I was just trying to get you to let me do what I want."

 

Spidey made a choked off noise before groaning, plucking at his mask. 

 

"Snot mask?" Wade patted his shoulder in sympathy, "I feel ya, buddy. Only thing worse that snot is brains, really starts to stink up the place."

 

Spidey nodded, still sniffling. "Gross. I'm gonna… Go clean up."

 

Wade shrugged, letting his hand drop to his side. "Go for it, honeybriches."

 

"You… Keep watch, yeah? I kind of… Need sleep."

 

Wade nodded, grinning. "Sure thang! Get yo' beauty sleep, baby boy. You look terrible."

 

Spidey let out a weak chuckle, making his way to the bathroom.

 

**

 

Peter was getting antsy. He had ten hours before he had to get back to work, and there had still been no sign of Grace.

 

He'd woken up after a solid five hours of sleep to Wade sat at the window with his mask half up, absently picking at his skin as he sang show tunes with mangled lyrics under his breath. 

 

It had only been twenty minutes and he was picking again. 

 

"Quit picking, and get some sleep." 

 

Wade's hands flew away, spandex snapping back in place. "You know those little bits of skin that stick out that you can just need to pick off to make the skin smooth?"

 

"No."

 

"Well, I'm made of em, and they're suuuuper satisfying to just-" He made a scrabbling motion with his hands.

 

"And super bad for you, regardless of healing factor." He poked at the merc's shoulder. "And don't ignore me, get some sleep before I make you."

 

He flopped over, whining, "But Spideeeeey, I don't  _ wanna  _ close my eyes."

 

"Pool-" Peter warned.

 

"I don't wanna FALL ASLEEP, COZ I'D MISS YOU, BABE."

 

Peter groaned as Wade belted out the old Aerosmith tune, fighting down a chuckle as he gesticulated dramatically, finally losing the battle as the merc toppled off the chair.

 

He could see the grin through Wade's mask as his head popped up to look at where Peter sat laughing. 

 

Wade sat up, righting his chair, "You feelin' better now, baby boy?"

 

Peter quietened down, chuckling a little as he considered the question and settled his chuckles.

 

Wade had been good, thoughtful, in how he'd given Peter space after his minor breakdown. Careful not to wake him from his nap. Had even ordered them in sub par nachos and fries from room service for when Peter finally woke up. 

 

How he’d taken two bullets for him. 

 

Peter chewed his lip as Wade flopped back into his seat. 

 

“I’ve not got long until I need to go to work.”

 

Wade slapped his head, “Right, fuck! This is your hobby, right? You got a little masochist streak, baby boy? Want a little sadist in you?” 

 

Peter frowned, shaking his head as Deadpool wiggled his brows at him. He really didn’t have time to unpack all that. “If Grace doesn’t make an appearance soon, I’m gonna have to go.”

 

He could just about make out the pout through Wade’s mask. “Aww, man. Cuttin’ into our quality time.”

 

Peter leaned forward, “I need to know I can trust you to keep watch for Grace.”

 

“Of course, I’ll watch it like it’s the hidden final season of Firefly, starshine.”

 

“And not kill him if he turns up. Or anyone else.”

 

Wade’s head cocked as he considers Peter. 

 

“For you, pumpkin,” He held out his little finger, “I’ll pinkie promise it.”

 

Peter huffed, “I don’t need a pinkie promise, Wade.”

 

“I can cut it off?”

 

He wrinkled his nose, “No. Why do you always think cutting stuff off will help?”

 

Wade pointed at him, “You’d be surprised how often it helps.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it.” He turned back to the street, where there was still no movement in or out of the building opposite. 

 

He still hoped that he wouldn’t have to leave. He didn’t have much choice if he didn’t want to lose his job, but having to trust the merc famed for his volatility had proven itself a poor bet on numerous occasions. 

 

Maybe he should have just reached out to the Avengers for help. But damn if it didn’t make his pride prickle uncomfortably. Especially after how long it took them to offer him a place with them. Damn elitist snobby-

 

No. 

 

He wasn’t going down that rabbit hole again. 

 

“-going through mental journey, and damn if I wish I wasn’t there with ya. Though not much has gone well for anyone who let lil’ ol’ Deadpool up in their psyche, case and point me-”

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Peter cut off Wade’s rambling, wondering how long he’d been on a roll for. 

 

“We covered a lot of points, there. So I’ll recap using the briefing notes.” Wade mimed licking a finger to turn a page, “What are we meant to do if we spot Grace and you aren’t here? What would be considered reasonable force to contain him? Oh, Spidey isn’t listening. Can’t blame him, some analogy about the boy who cried wolf; that’s meant to be stricken from the record, White! Speculation on what Spidey’s thinking about. Considering how to break into his thoughts. Spidey rejoins the conversation-”

 

“Alright, I got it.”

 

“- Deadpool recaps using White’s notes- Oh, okay.” Wade clapped his hands, grinning through the mask. 

 

Peter rolled his eyes.”If Grace turns up and I’m not here, you call me straight away. Don’t contain him, don’t even contact him. Follow him  _ quietly. _ ”

 

“Right, picture of stealth, gotcha.” A heavy wink. 

 

“No, really. Do not be seen.”

 

“What do you take me for?”

 

“Loud.” Peter ticked off his fingers, “Chaotic. Annoying.”

 

“Alright! Jeez. As if we didn’t sneak up on you before now.”

 

“And I nearly killed you for it.”

 

“Ah, memories.” Wade sighed lovingly. 

 

“And I was thinking about the Avengers.”

 

“Oooh”, Wade spun his chair to straddle it, leaning forward. “Was it gossip? Can I know? I promise not to tell anyone.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yeah, fair. I would tell everyone. But no one listens to me!”

 

“No, I meant it’s not gossip, really. I was just wondering if I should have told them about all”, He flapped a hand at the window, “This.”

 

Wade snorted loud, “Yeah, coz they’re known for their subtlety. Grace would hide himself away in some European hideaway film trope faster than you can say ‘suit up’.”

 

Peter felt his mouth quirk, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 

Wade moaned, rubbing his face. “Love when you say that.”

 

“What, you’re right?”

 

Wade shuddered over-exaggerated, “Ooh, honey, you’re filthy.”

 

Peter grinned, shoving at Wade as the larger man giggled, “Shut up.”

 

“You hungry, baby boy?”

 

“We just ate.”

 

“Not what I asked.”

 

“...Yes.”

 

**

 

Spidey had left what felt like an age ago. Either way, the sun had risen and crawled halfway across the sky in that time. 

 

At least he'd contacted room service and convinced them with a hefty tip to bring him a charger for his phone, but he'd gotten to the point where he was scrolling listlessly through the app store.

 

_ This is boring. Why don't we just track down Grace and bring him to Spidey? _

 

_ He said don't touch him. _

 

_ So, okay hear me out, we get a BIG NET- _

 

_ That's stupid. _

 

_ You're stupid! _

 

_ Oh, real mature. _

 

_ Eat my whole ass. _

 

_ You don't have an ass, numbnuts. _

 

Wade huffed at the bickering, shoving his phone back in his pocket and pulling out an old bag of jelly beans. He started throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth.

 

He was on a 42 streak when he panicked and chucked one in his eye, only to realise the guy going in was just swapping shifts. 

 

He'd eaten all the black beans and moved onto the green ones when he gave up with three stuck to the ceiling above him. 

 

When the boredom morphed into that slow depression that usually made Wade sleep for days, he started idly stabbing himself in the leg. Nothing like the sharp pain of steel touching bone to really wake you up. 

 

He was contemplating moving on to stabbing himself in the head for some real funtimes when he caught sight of the man himself, Grace striding purposefully down the street. 

 

_ HELL YEAH! LET'S KILL HIM! _

 

_ But Spidey- _

 

_ FUCK THAT! We waited so long!  _

 

Wade yanked his phone out his pocket, speed-dialing Webs while keeping his nose pressed to the window as Grace disappeared into the building.

 

_ What are you doing?? Follow him! _

 

_ It might actually be wise to keep eyes on him. _

 

Spidey picked up after two rings, "He there?"

 

"Uh huh", Wade's voice rasped, must have been singing to himself again. "70% sure not a hallucination, but I can check."

 

_ Hallucinations usually don't react to being stabbed. _

 

Wade rubbed away the condensation from the glass impatiently, his breath quickly fogging it up again. 

 

"Alright, good enough for you. I'll be right there. Don't. Move."

 

_ But he's  _ **_right there._ **

 

_ Ask baby boy if we can move first- _

 

_ What if he gets away? _

 

Wade wriggled, chewing at the skin on his thumb where his mask was still rolled up from the jelly beans. "What if he sneaks away?"

 

Spidey sounded a little breathless, the sounds of doors whirring open filtering through the call. "Keep eyes on him, just don't get too close."

 

_ Define too close? _

 

"Right. Eyes on him." Wade opened the window. 

 

"Deadpool, no fighting until I'm there."

 

_ I mean, we can't help if it happens. We need to defend ourselves. _

 

"Yeah, sure. Got it." Wade mutters, distracted as he scoots out the window to cling to the mouldings on the building. 

 

"Wade-"

 

Grace walked out of the building. 

 

"Gotta go." Wade hung up, jumping down the side of the building. 

 

Unseen, a green jelly bean falls from the ceiling.

 

**

 

The merc hadn't picked up the phone after that, Peter cursing as he made his way to the only place he knew of that could track down Wade.

 

"Mr Spider-man, sir. I am sorry, but we are not currently open."

 

"Dopinder, I need your help."

 

Dopinder's smile grew as he straightened up, smoothing down his shirt. "Finally, my time for kicking ass has come."

 

"What? No." Peter shook his head, walking closer as Dopinder flopped in disappointment. "Wade mentioned you have an app so you can pick him up, I need to know where he is now."

 

"Mr Pool? Oh yes, I certainly do." He paused as he went to pull out his phone, narrowing his eyes at Peter. "Wait… I do not want to be caught out like with the floppy haired man. Prove you are the real Spider-man."

 

Peter groaned, rubbing his face. He really didn't have time- Fine. 

 

He webbed the mop from Dopinder's hands into his own. "There. Happy?"

 

Dopinder smiled brightly, eyes sparkling. "Oh, yes, sir. Mr Pool will be so happy you want to see him, you are his favourite superhero. And favourite ass, as well."

 

Peter rolled his eyes, accepting the phone. Of course Wade told everyone about his ass, why would he expect any different? Still, it was a surprise he hadn't told anyone who would listen they were working together. 

 

"Fuck", Peter breathed, zooming in on Wade's position. 

 

But no, he was right. 

 

That was Gellum's grandma's place. 

 

He cursed again, near throwing Dopinder back his phone and the mop. "Thanks man, gotta go."

 

"Oh… okay!" He waved awkwardly at Peter's retreating back before gazing down at his phone and muttering, "I must never clean this."

 

**

 

Spidey landed square in his chest, severely winding Wade.

 

_ Talk about taking our breath away. _

 

Wade let out a weak wheezing sound in an attempt to relay the joke.

 

"What are you doing?" Spidey hissed, squatting down to tug at Wade's katana straps.

 

He wheezed again.

 

"Oh." Spidey shifted off his diaphragm, Wade feeling spinny as the oxygen rushed back into his system. 

 

"You really do take my breath away, Webs."

 

_ Hey! That's my joke! _

 

A warning growl from Spidey, "Wade."

 

"I followed Grace, didn't touch him, just like you said. He's with the old lady right now." Wade tried to point from his reclining position.

 

Spidey hesitated, "You didn't make contact?"

 

Wade ignored the boxes' grumbling as he grinned, "Nope. I was good. Do I get a reward?"

 

_ For following a simple order? Doubt it. _

 

_ A kiss!! We pick where! _

 

Spidey huffed, getting off Wade and heaving him back on his feet without a hint of strain. 

 

Wade fanned himself, "Golly, so strong."

 

"Sorry", Wade cocked his head at where Spidey stood, fidgeting. "For doubting you. Again." He clarified. 

 

Wade shrugged, "Nah, makes sense. We really wanted to punish Grace for being a lil shitbag, and Yellow had some real convincing arguments. Always good to stay on your guard, princess."

 

_ Especially with scum like us. _

 

_ More like you guys, I'm the good guy here. _

 

_ Shut the fuck up. _

 

Spidey eyed him, "I think everyone underestimates you. Especially yourself." 

 

Spidey twisted towards the house before Wade could reply to his incredibly false assumptions of his worth. "Any idea what's going on in there?"

 

"Can't get good sights on ‘em from here, but at a guess I'd say hostage situation." Wade clapped his hands together in glee, "Ooh, ooh, if it is can I cut him up? Pleeeeease?" 

 

Spidey squinted at Wade, who batted his eyes at him, hands held delicately beneath his chin. "No."

 

_ He thought about it! _

 

"An arm?"

 

"No."

 

"A single hand?"

 

Spidey groaned, "Look, try to avoid violence where you can."

 

_ That wasn't a no! _

 

_ But equally, once you start choppin', there ain't no stoppin' _

 

_ BLOOOOOOOD! _

 

Wade grinned, wriggling a little to feel Bea and Arthur dig into his back. Spidey jabbed a finger towards his face, "Violence is an absolute last resort, right?"

 

Wade nodded, feeling the excitement bubble through him. "Got it. Last resort."

 

Spidey nodded sharply, turning back to the house. "Let's find the best way in."

 

Wade shivered a little.

 

_ Aww look at us. Being a team.  _

 

Wade started humming the Mission Impossible theme as they checked over the perimeter, the house small and unassuming. Wade doing his best not to get distracted by the tense line of Spidey's back, his fluid movements from shadow to shadow, his butt in the tight spandex-

 

_ FOCUS! _

 

Right. Wade prodded Spidey's shoulder as he spotted a dappled window with an old latch, managing not to giggle at how Spidey startled like a cat. 

 

Wade nodded at the window, "Can slide my knife along the latch, crack that baby open."

 

Wade preened a little under Spidey's assessing gaze as he walked to open the window. "Aren't you a little too…" Spidey held his hands wide.

 

Wade gasped, pausing with his knife in hand. "Fat? Spidey!"

 

Spidey flapped a little, "No! Obviously not! Look at you, you're fucking ripped! I mean-" 

 

Wade could feel his grin spreading wider at each spluttering word, Spidey finally shoving at him. 

 

"You have massive shoulders, asshole." 

 

"Been checking me out, baby boy?" Wade winked, flexing a little. 

 

Spidey scowled, grumbling, "The point still stands, you won't fit. I'll go in first and open the side door for you."

 

Wade pushed the window open, turning to shrug at Spidey. "Could just dislocate my shoulders, slip right through."

 

Spidey recoiled, "Ew. No, dude. Just wait here."

 

Wade blew a raspberry, leaning back against the wall and playing with his knife. "Alright, party pooper."

 

Spidey still took the time to flip him the bird before slipping through the window, Wade 'helping' by pushing his ass and snickering at how Spidey's legs jerked in surprise. 

 

**

 

Peter tried to ignore how he could still feel the warm outline of Wade's hand on his ass as he crept through the bathroom he'd found himself in.

 

He could hear the sound of china clinking in a room to the right, but otherwise it was silent. 

 

Peter pressed close to where the door hung ajar, but he couldn't see far enough down the hallway to see what was happening.

 

Either Grace had forced the woman silent, or she was currently safe. Adding Deadpool to the mix was a guaranteed way to ensure it wouldn't stay that way for long. 

 

Although, he also couldn't be too sure how Grace would react to seeing Spider-man. 

 

He did trust his senses enough without Deadpool there muddling the mix to react in time if something were to happen. 

 

He took a deep breath, sliding through the gap and down the hall. 

 

He peeked around the corner, only to jerk back when he saw eyes staring straight back.

 

"I don't believe there's too much point in you hiding."

 

Peter swallowed hard, body tensed and ready for whatever danger was facing him around the corner. 

 

He walked carefully back into view, taking in the sight in front of him. 

 

Grace, face down in a pool of blood soaking into the carpet around his head. With Gellum's grandma sat on the armchair, feet resting on the corpse like some kind of footstool. Her demeanour was completely different, gone where her dithery mannerisms and watery gaze. Instead she sat in a sharp line, gaze cutting and constantly assessing, lips pursed as she took a purposeful sip from her cup of tea before replacing it in it's saucer. 

 

"I was tempted to play the old fool, the frightened damsel, when my sensors picked up intruders", She mentioned thoughtfully, stirring her cup. "But I decided, I rather liked the idea of facing you myself."

 

Peter twitched a little at the spike of his Spider senses as her eyes flashed, mouth twisted into a thin smile. 

 

He raised an arm, trying to appear non-threatening, "Listen, we can talk this through. I don't know what's going on here-"

 

She tutted, Peter feeling the sweat roll cold between his shoulders. "I would have expected a smart man like you would have figured it out by now, Peter."

 

Peter jerked away like he'd been slapped. "Who-"

 

"Surely the better question would be 'how'? But maybe that's your problem. Asking the wrong questions. As for who, I’m Sofia, but everyone calls me Mother.” She stood. “Sit down, Peter."

 

He clenched his fists, but before he could reach for his shooters her voice rumbled out, otherworldly and harsh.

 

" **Sit down.** "

 

His knees buckled, landing him on the carpet. He reflexively shot a web, aiming to silence her, but with a rustle of fabric she twisted easily out of the way. 

 

She tutted as she skillfully dodged another shot, and a third.

 

She giggled as if this was some kind of game, Peter unable to unbend his legs, to pull himself to his feet. His limbs feeling as if every muscle was trying to seize up, every movement a fight against himself. 

 

His shots started getting sloppy as he shook, trying to gain any kind of upper hand, but she stepped out of the way like a well practiced dance. 

 

Finally she grabbed him by the back of his mask, managing to claw a handful of hair with it, to drag his head backwards. 

 

Her smile was spiteful in its triumph, grip unforgiving in his hair as he grit his teeth, arms feeling impossibly weak as he tried to push at her arm. 

 

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting it to be this easy,'' she observed, pulling harder at his hair. 

 

"Wasn't expecting you to move so fast for a pensioner,'' Peter shot back. 

 

She laughed before backhanding him viciously, Peter tasting the bitter copper as his lip split, unable to stop himself as his body sagged in her grip. 

 

"I'd say it's nothing personal, even though you handing over my idiot grandson was an annoyance. But this is more business than pleasure." 

 

The room was spinning on a slanted axis, "You flirtin' with me?" Peter managed to slur "Coz I don't wanna swing that way"

  
She smiled meanly, " **Sleep.** "


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We!!!! Are gonna get better at chaptering this. God help us.

_ Webs is taking his sweet time. _

 

_ Probably decided he didn't want you fucking shit up. _

 

Wade scowled, throwing the knife highed before catching it between his fingers. 

 

_ What if he's in trouble? _

 

_ Pfft, this is Spidey we're talking about. He doesn't even need us here.  _

 

Wade twitched a little, the knife skidding in his palm, easily slicing through the leather and flesh. He turned his head, sure he'd just heard something. 

 

He glanced around sightlessly, trying to zero in on any sound from the house over the general noisiness of the city.

 

_ This is pointless and boring, we should just- _

 

"Shut up a minute." Wade pressed closer, and there it was again. Extremely muffled. Soundproofed. 

 

The place was soundproofed. 

 

Why would it need to be? Unless-

 

"Spidey!" Wade bellowed, marching around the building. Every window covered in net curtains. He punched one. Reinforced. "Fuck. Webs! This is a trap!"

 

No reply. "Fuck." He rubbed his face. "Shit. Alright, sorry Webs. Time for Plan Deadpool."

 

Wade booted down the front door, drawing his favourite Desert Eagle as the wood splintered and bounced off the wall, just in time to watch Spidey flop to the floor.

 

Wade growled, pointing a gun at the old woman's face. She looked irritatingly calm.

 

_ PULL THE TRIGGER, PIGLET! _

 

_ Is Spidey okay? _

 

"Wade."

 

He cocked the gun, "Alright Blanche, what have you done to Spidey?"

 

_ God, even her smile is annoying, SHOOT HER FACE OFF! _

 

"Peter looked like he needed some rest."

 

Wade felt his face screw up, "Who the fuck is Peter?"

 

"Oh,'' Her eyes widened in mock surprise, smirk still firmly in place. "You didn't know his secret identity yet? Silly me." 

 

_ Peter? Do we know any Peters? White? _

 

_ I'm not telling you!! Bro code, douchenugget. _

 

_ Spoil sport. _

 

"Wow, that meant to mean anything to me, lady?" 

 

She took a step forward, hissing as he shot her in the stomach.

 

_ The fuck is wrong with this lady? _

 

Another step, another shot. 

 

_ Wade- _

 

Finally she planted a hand on his arm and sighed even as he tried to jerk away, but her grip was tight.

 

Even as he broke her hold, she kicked out his legs. 

 

He rolled to his feet, only for her to swiftly punch him in the neck. 

 

It was like she knew when each move was coming-

 

He stopped, wheezing on the floor as she planted a foot on his sternum. 

 

He pulled up his gun to shoot, only for her to grab the barrel away from her face. 

 

He watched as her mangled hand healed over and she tugged the gun from his hand. 

 

"What the fuck?"

 

"Language." She tutted, cocking her head. "I have to say, I'm quite glad I didn't also gain your appearance when I took your mutation."

 

"Wha- ARGH!" He gurgled, effectively cut off by the shot through his neck. 

 

He jerked as pain lanced through him, his lungs filling with his own blood. Fuck, this was always a shit way to die.

 

She watched coldly as she watched the race between blood loss and drowning at her feet.

 

He faintly wondered why the boxes were being so quiet.

 

She smiled as drowning finally won out. "Goodbye, Wade Wilson."

 

**

 

Peter woke up in a completely white room, causing him to squint and hiss at the sharp pain behind his eyes. 

 

He rose slowly, assessing the space. There appeared to only be one door, the only gap in the pristine white surrounding him. He struggled over, trying to shake off whatever the hell had just happened to him. 

 

He ran his fingers over the edges of the door, but it was near flush with the wall. He pressed, exerting progressively more of his strength. 

 

A voice crackled out of some hidden speakers, "I wouldn't bother, that's pure Vibranium." 

 

Peter spun, trying to locate the voice. His hands flexed. "Who are you?"

 

Another crackle as the speakers came to life- to the left. "No one important." A female voice. He crept towards the noise, "Are you gonna put on a show? I'm bored."

 

"Sure." He started climbing the wall, running his fingers along the ceiling in search of the speakers. "You into jokes?"

 

She hummed, Peter crawling over to the sound and finding a hairline gap, tracing a square. "Not really, I'm more into physical comedy."

 

He cried out, falling from the ceiling as a high pitched screech from the speakers blasted through him. He curled in on himself, covering his head as it increased in frequency before cutting out. 

 

He gasped in relief as he laughter crackled down from above him. 

 

"Ah, you're pretty funny. Try it again." 

 

Peter tapped his shooters, piling webbing over his ears. He jumped straight up, gritting his teeth as the sound filtered through the webbing, muffled but still ear splitting. 

 

He jerked as the sound suddenly lowered dramatically, rattling through him. He dropped as he started retching, ripping his mask out the way just as thin bile splattered out his mouth. 

 

He heard the laughter as if underwater before the noise dropped even lower, his hand flying to his chest as sharp pain stabbed outwards. 

 

He shook as he fumbled with his shooters before a voice rang out as if stood directly next to him; “ **Stop.** ”

 

His hands flopped useless at his sides, body still shivering even as all other noise stopped. He gasped for breath, pins and needles spreading through his limbs. 

 

“I apologise for Angel,'' Peter scowled at the familiar elderly voice, “She gets a little enthusiastic when we have guests.”

 

Peter sat up to spit on the floor, rolling his mask back in place. “As long as she doesn’t hump my leg.”

 

“Hm, I believe your partner’s charm may have rubbed off on you.”

 

Peter twitched a little, “I don’t have a partner.”

 

Her tittering sent chills down his spine. “No, I suppose you don’t any more. Poor Deadpool, shunned by his hero right until the end.”

 

Peter scowled, looking around the room in an attempt to look into wherever the camera must be. “Not to say I don’t appreciate the theatrics, but if you’d be a little clearer-”

 

“He’s dead.” 

 

Peter rolled his eyes, “You’ve never heard of Deadpool, then.”

 

Another fake laugh causing him to clench his jaw. “Oh, I know  _ all  _ about Wade Wilson. But obviously you have never heard of  _ me. _ ”

 

Peter frowned, clenching his hands reflexively and looking around the room. “Sorry, never heard of any psychotic old ladies with mind control powers.”

 

She chuckled darkly over the speakers, “So you think it's mind control. Still, it's unsurprising you don't know of me, as I wanted it that way. Have you not wondered about what happened to your strength in our fight, Spider-man?”

 

He’s assumed it was something like the neurotoxin from Mysterio, if she was laughing at the thought of mind control maybe her command words were some kind of hypnotism. Although the use of sound as a torture device was… Unique. 

 

But how was that relevant to whatever happened to Wade?

 

Peter chose to stay silent.

 

“Hmm, not sharing your theories? Shame. Well, enjoy your stay with us, Spider-man. I trust you won’t be here much longer.”

 

“No. I won’t be.”

 

Her laughter cut off along with the speaker, Peter remaining still in the middle of the room. 

 

Right.

 

How the fuck was he getting out of this one? 

 

And where the hell was Wade?

 

**

 

Wade woke up and instantly hacked up what felt like a pint of blood. He punched himself in the chest, trying to clear the rattle from his lungs. He ignored how soaked the mask now was, the rich smell of blood filling his nose. 

 

Shit, that was a nasty one. He looked around at the unfamiliar house, covered in nik naks and doilies. He frowned, scratching at his neck as he tried to riffle through his memories to pinpoint where the fuck he was. 

 

He blinked at a framed picture of a familiar face that filled him with bloodlust. An enemy? An annoying bastard? He squinted.

 

_ Gellum. _

 

He snapped his fingers, “Right”, His voice cracked, “That asshole.”

 

_ That old broad stole your thing. _

 

Wade frowned, cocking his head, “My dick?”

 

_ No, you fuckwad. You notice how we stopped talking? _

 

“You were unusually quiet.”

 

_ She took your mutation.  _

 

_ You were dead for real for a while there, man. _

 

“Aww. Better luck next time.” Wade heaved to his feet, cracking his muscles.

 

_ She has Spidey. _

 

Wade jolted, memories rushing back. “Fuck! How long?”

 

_ Five hours.  _

 

Wade cursed, a lot longer than usual to regen. They must be telling the truth-

 

_ Of course we are, asshole! _

 

_ But we know where she is. She took your mutation, so she tried to take us.  _

 

“You mean I nearly got rid of you?”

 

_ Hey, fuck you. We’re helping.  _

 

_ Now can we go pay her back for fucking drowning us in our own blood? _

 

_ And taking our GUN. _

 

Wade grinned, rolling his shoulders. “Sounds like fun.”

 

**

 

_ Ooh, I love a good explosion. Makes me all tingly in the giblets. _

 

"Mm, I agree", Wade rumbled, skipping over the rubble into the facility. 

 

He grinned as the barrels of several guns turned on him. "Why, hello there."

 

"Freeze! Don't move!" 

 

Wade cocked his head.

 

"Holy shit", he turned towards the voice, grin turning feral at how the gun in their hands shook. "Fuck, it's Deadpool."

 

_ Hell yeah, baby! _

 

Wade unsheathed Bea and Arthur, winking. "Miss me?"

 

He dodged out of the way as they opened fire, grunting as a couple bullets sunk into him. He sliced clean through the first guy like a sigh, the blood splattering warm across his face. 

 

_ Unhhhh finallyyy _

 

_ Wait!! Guys! Think of Spidey!  _

 

Wade pulled his sword free, turning away to let the guy bleed out on the floor and taking a bullet to the arm point blank. 

 

He smiled wide, "How embarrassing, missing at this range." He knocked him out with the handle, "Don't worry. Happens to the best of us."

 

He cut through the rest of them in a haze of red, consciously pulling his killing blows at the last moment.

 

_ Probably would be kinder if we hadn’t. _

 

_ Mmm, love me a good loophole. _

 

He booted down the door, a young woman leaning against the wall in the following corridor, chewing on a matchstick. 

 

His smiled cheerily, "Angel."

 

_ Ooh, I wondered what happened to her after the first film. _

 

"Wilson. Always a shame to see you. Still got a mask on, so guessing you're still ugly?" She pouted in mock-pity.

 

"What, you lookin' for a guy? Coz I gotta say, I don't think you have the bone structure to pull off the lewk."

 

She narrowed her eyes, snarling, "Cut the crap, Wilson. Let's settle this." 

 

"Ooh, did you use all this time to come up with those one liners?" He laughed as she marched towards him, "Bringing your fists to a knife fight, chuckles?" 

 

"It's all I need", she grinned, pulling back a fist.

 

A fist that powered through his block like a baseball bat through a wet sack of meat. 

 

He slammed back into the wall, his left arm temporarily a useless slushie of meat and bone barely contained in his skin.

 

_ She's super strong, dumbass.  _

 

_ You remember what happened to us when we tried to fight Colossus? She nearly beat him, idiot. _

 

"Right", he wheezed, "Plan B."

 

He pulled out a grenade, throwing it down the corridor. She snatched it from the air easily, failing to notice him whip out his gun. 

 

He grinned, shooting straight at her palm as she went to throw the bomb back.

 

"HOT POTAT-"

 

**

 

The building shook, Peter glancing around, straining to hear anything. He moved towards where the vibrations came from, pressing his ear to the wall. 

 

He couldn't hear anything, but his Spidey sense ramped up from the constant ringing to a low rumble. 

 

Something was out there. 

 

Or someone. 

 

Emboldened that no voice was coming through the speakers, he hopped back up to find the gap. 

 

He found the edge, barely managing to slide his fingernails under and try pulling. His nails snapped or ripped off, making no mark. 

 

He scowled. He couldn't get a proper grip like this. 

 

Fuck it.

 

He balled a fist, punching straight into the centre of the dip. 

 

A deep crack splintered through, dust raining down. 

 

He punched again. Again. Grunting as finally a chunk of concrete fell away to reveal cameras. 

 

He ripped them out, throwing them to the floor. The wiring disappeared into the concrete either side, and the hole was only large enough for said cameras. 

 

But, it seemed like more concrete went up. Which could mean a way out. 

 

Peter punched hard, trying to clear larger chunks of concrete without accidentally compromising the structure of the building if it turned out to be near anything important. 

 

The more he cleared, the more he could start to hear the distant pops of gunfire. Screams. His spidey-sense ramping louder with each blow bringing him closer to the noise. 

 

His arms ached, his legs and core complaining at the awkward position on the ceiling after not eating or drinking in so long. 

 

The screams and shots were lessening, quietening, but his senses were only getting louder in the lack of noise. 

 

His knuckles stung, the suit near shredded around his hands from the amount of solid concrete he was working through. 

 

He was so close he could hear footsteps above him, pretty sure he could almost hear two voices. When suddenly, he was thrown backwards, down through all the concrete he'd worked through to the floor, the ceiling following him down. 

 

He yelped, leaping out of the way as larger pieces of the building rained down on him. 

 

Finally, as the rumbling settled, his senses flared and he spun to face-

 

"Wade?" 

 

The merc, lightly smouldering from the explosion, coughed and lowered his gun to flap an extremely floppy arm at him. "Sup Spider-babe?" 

 

"You-!" Peter gaped. "How-? You're here?" 

 

"As the timeless classic Naruto would say, believe it." 

 

Peter spluttered as Wade groaned, rising to his feet. "But, how?"

 

Wade grunted, patting out parts of his suit that were still on fire before pushing his mask up past his nose. "Sorry, choking in here. And uhh, guess the boxes know where that bitch is now? Was just lucky she was where you are." 

 

Peter's eyes widened, "She's actually here? In the building?" He assumed she’d been patched into the comms or something.

 

Wade cocked his head, pouting. "White says she is, a little deeper. There stairs in here?"

 

"Yeah, real five star treatment. Got a tour, a jacuzzi, and everything, of course not." 

 

Wade threw up his arms, "Alright, somebody's hangry. Here." 

 

Peter automatically shot out an arm to catch whatever was zooming straight at his head, squinting down at the package.

 

"Just a granola bar, sorry. Fresh outta pocket burritos." 

 

Peter's nose wrinkled at the thought. "Sure. Thanks." 

 

He leaped up, climbing up the rubble to the corridor Wade stood in. 

 

The merc grinned at him, teeth white against the angry red of his half burned skin and scarring. 

 

"Eat up, buttercup. You're gonna need it." 

 

Peter rolled his eyes, conceding the point and shoving the bar in his mouth. He followed Wade walking around the hole in the floor toward the end of the corridor.

 

He gestured toward the hole, mouth full of too dry granola. "Guessing this was you?"

 

Wade grinned before hastily clearing his expression. "What? Me? No way. Very reckless, whoever did that."

 

"Hey", Wade half turned, jumping as Peter put his hand on his shoulder. "Thanks."

 

Wade scoffed a little, "It's just a granola bar-"

 

"No." Peter cut him off, shaking his head. "No. For doing this. I… You saved me. Thank you."

 

Wade snapped his mouth shut, smile a little nervous, "Sure. No problem."

 

Peter nodded, patting Wade's shoulder before letting go and pushing open the door to reveal stairs. 

 

He held the door open, cocking his head at Wade. "Ready to kick some ass?"

 

Wade slapped himself before jerking forward. "Hell yeah! Let's roll, baby boy!" 

 

Peter allowed himself a smile as Wade whooped, half falling down the stairs in his haste, the door shutting behind them with an echoey clang. 

 

**

 

"Little pig, little pig", Wade booted down the door, "Let me come in."

 

The old lady was stood at the back of the room, pale with rage as she turned to face them. 

 

"You", She spat, "Are meant to be  _ dead. _ "

 

Wade cackled, "Disappointed?"

 

_ We kinda are. _

 

"Sorry, not sorry. I've regenned from way worse than your little trick."

 

"What?" Spidey nudged him. "You know what she's doing?" 

 

"Oh yeah", Wade leaned in, "Figured out after last time-"

 

_ You mean  _ **_I_ ** _ told you. _

 

"She's got some weird magic that means if she touches you, she steals your power."

 

Spidey cursed as the woman hissed at him, "It becomes mine if you die under my touch, so you can't hurt me anymore."

 

_ Oh, honey. _

 

Wade wailed with laughter, grabbing onto Spidey for support.

 

Spidey stiffened after a moment, his voice a low warning, "Pool-"

 

"Can't get hurt, el oh el." He shot her in the knee, her stumbling to the floor with a hiss. 

 

She glared at him, although her skin had paled further, "It… Will heal."

 

"So will this." 

 

Spidey called out, twisting to grab the gun as Wade threw a knife between her eyes. 

 

She slumped to the floor, lifeless, as Spidey shoved him, the boxes crowing in triumph over the cool parting line. 

 

_ My idea. _

 

_ Nuh uh! That was all me! _

 

"Wade! I can't believe you killed her!"

 

"Yeah, you can." Wade grinned as he dislodged his knife. "Can't believe you let me, really this is on you." He waved the knife at him before wiping the gore off on the old broad's cardigan and pocketing it. 

 

He could see Spidey's scowl through the mask as he jabbed a finger in Wade's direction, "No! Don't you dare! I am not meant to be babysitting you, I'm meant to be able to trust you." 

 

_ Who decided that? _

 

_ A poor decision. Fire them. _

 

"Just because she can come back doesn't mean you get to throw all morals out the window!"

 

Wade rolled his eyes, "Look, I gave her a quick, painless death. Trust me, I've tried." Wade wobbled his palm, "She'll be back in 45 minutes, at most an hour."

 

Spidey visibley flinched a little, his voice suddenly softer. "When you say you've tried… Is this a… You doing it to yourself?"

 

Wade grinned, leaning in to waggle his eyebrows at Spidey, "You askin' to hear about my quality time with lil' Wade?" He purred, "Coz I got these scenarios where you're-"

 

"I'm not joking, Wade-"

 

_ Neither are we. _

 

"- Look, we're running out of time. But don't think we're not revisiting this."

 

Wade shrugged, turning to help Spidey tie up the old lady and carry her back to the secure location he'd manage to annoy ol’ Wolfie out of. It wasn’t like he could try and interrogate the broad in with the X-dorks around.

 

_ On that note, what are you planning with Spidey around? _

 

Huh. Right. Wade glanced back at where Spidey followed, swinging behind him and carrying the lady like a real awkward backpack. 

 

_ Hadn’t thought of that, huh big guy? _

 

_ Might as well have taken her to the Mystery Gang to unmask. _

 

_ Been gettin’ too settled in with Spidey, huh? Thinkin’ he was a friend? Forgetting how he feels about your methods? _

 

_ I mean, he  _ **_did_ ** _ just chew us out for killing her temporarily. You can hardly say you forgot.  _

 

Wade scowled, “Hey, pull over here my precious little Indian friend.”

 

Dopinder paused in his mindless chatter to smile and nod, pulling over to where Wade had asked. He turned to offer his hand, Wade delivering the promised high five. 

 

Dopinder frowned, reaching to tap at Wade’s arm before he left the cab. 

 

“I do not wish to pry, Mr Pool sir, but you seem rather lackluster. Is your time with Spider-Man not going as you hoped?”

 

Wade scoffed, “Firstly, you’re always looking to pry. You’re a curtain twitcher, and the first step is admitting it. Secondly, of course it’s great. All rainbows and bullets. Tip top condition. Fantastic.”

 

Ooh, Wade did not like the pity in the other man’s eyes. Dopinder patted his arm, “Of course, Mr Pool. Just know I am always here for you.”

 

Wade narrowed his eyes. He hissed, he didn’t have time for this shit. He got out the car, flipping the bird as Dopinder waved cheerily from the window. 

 

Spidey was already stood waiting for him, not even a little out of breath as he shifted his hold on the lady. 

 

_ Hey, how come we don’t even know her name yet? _

 

_ Yeah, what the fuck is the writer up to? _

 

Wade waved away the boxes’ questions as he jogged up to Spidey. “Hey baby boy, what’s an angel like you doing in a hell like this?”

 

Spidey squinted, muttering a little about minced pick up lines before indicating around them. “We’re running out of time, and looks like you’ve taken us to the middle of nowhere.”

 

Wade grinned, striding past Spidey, “Nothing gets past you, honey. But that’s the whole point of bottom storage. Far away from anything, minimises risk.” He tapped his temple as he walked towards the lake in the centre of the park, “Smort.”

 

Spidey followed after him, the yellow lighting washing out the colours of his suit. Wade took them to the door of a squat building by the side of the water, opening the door with a bow. 

 

Spidey squinted at him, “Asking me to go first into an undisclosed location? Pretty sketchy.”

 

Wade grinned as Spidey started down the stairs beyond the door. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

 

Wade starts asking questions as they get her secure in the bulletproof glass room. 

 

_ Very à la Fassbender in First Class. _

 

_ Gasp! Spoilers! _

 

_ It’s been years. This is on you.  _

 

“So, seeing as we ain’t exactly had a chance for a heart-to-heart recently, I guess I better catch you up on the latest goss. So this lady seemed to dodge each of my moves like she knew it was coming-”

 

_ She did. _

 

“-White said she did know it was coming, so there’s that.”

 

“Wait”, Spidey looked up from where he’d tied her arms down with some zip ties. “I thought White was just the name you’d given to a voice in your head?”

 

_ JUST? _

 

“Well”, Wade kept tying down her legs, pouting as he considered his answer. “Yellow and White are more like the editor’s notes, kinda. Sorta. They tend to be more limited narration these days, but after she took my powers they seem to know a lot more about her.”

 

“The editor’s- Never mind.” Spidey cocked his head, leaning a little closer to Wade, “So she kind of… Inherited the voices too? And they know how she works? How reliable is that?”

 

Wade shrugged, fiddling a little with the ties, “I mean, they’re usually pretty accurate. I’ve learnt to listen to ‘em most the time.”

 

_ And she didn’t ‘inherit’ us, whatever the fuck that’s meant to be. _

 

_ We just had a brief glimpse of her, as if she could almost hear us.  _

 

_ But there wasn’t enough time, so it didn’t stick.  _

 

“Yeah, they said she didn’t get to hear them and they only got a little sneak peek.”

 

Spidey stood up, “And they say when she touches you, she absorbs your powers?”

 

_ Only mutations, really.  _

 

_ Yeah, like she isn’t suddenly great at oral now she’s touched us.  _

 

“Only mutations, apparently.”

 

Spidey nodded, “Right. And she  _ did  _ know what we were going to do before we did it, but our last altercation she didn’t appear to know. So maybe limited prediction? Anything else?”

 

_ The power words she used on Spidey before you got there was mind control. _

 

Wade twitched as he looked up at Spidey, “She used mind control on you Spidey? You okay?”

 

“Oh, that makes sense”, Spidey looked to the side, muttering to himself. 

 

Wade stood up, gripping Spidey’s shoulders. “Baby boy. Are you doing okay? Mind control can be real bad.”

 

“Oh, what? That?” Spidey flapped a hand, Wade letting his own drop back to his sides. “That’s nothing on Mysterio. But this is great, we have a lot of information already. Now we just need to know if she’s acting on orders, or if there’s anyone left that would be continuing her work.”

 

“The killing of the women?”

 

“Right!”

 

The old woman groaned, body jolting. 

 

_ Let’s make this a threesome. _

 

Wade grinned at Spidey, waggling his eyebrows, “Look who’s back in the land of the living.”

 

Spidey frowned, stamping on Wade’s foot. 

 

“Ms Gellum?” Spidey leant down to her eye level to where she sat, breath starting to rattle. 

 

_ Of course, Gellum. She’s his grandma.  _

 

She squinted, suddenly wincing. 

 

“Ah, killer migraine, right? No worries, it’ll clear up in a hot sec.” Wade winked, Spidey managing to contain his sigh to a hard exhale through the nose.

 

“Ms Gellum, we know about what you’ve been doing to these women across New York. We know the locations, the names, who you’ve employed to carry out these hits. We have your grandson.” Spidey squatted fully as the old lady’s steely gaze bored into him. “Now you’re going to tell us why, and who else is involved.”

 

She sneered, “Or what? Gonna let your little pet loose on me again?” She nodded at Wade, who wiggled his fingers in greeting. “Why would I tell you anything? Pain is only temporary, and now for me, so is death.”

 

Wade giggled, “Oh, trust me, honey. Pain may be temporary, but I can make it horrible and endless for you. You’ll be wishin’ death is permanent.” 

 

Spidey spun to shoot a glare at him, “No, you won’t. Words we get from torture are rarely truthful, and will only serve to lower us.”

 

_ Whoo, fancy words of a man that has clearly never known the joy of his enemy’s last breath as he begs for his life.  _

 

Wade lifted his hands in surrender, raising his brow. 

 

She chuckled darkly, sitting back in her seat. “Clearly you know nothing of the world. I thought you were idealistic, but I didn’t peg you as  _ naive,  _ Spider-Man.” She cocked her head, “If you think you can cajole me into telling you anything, I pity you. I shan’t be saying another word.”

 

“Don’t you think that you’d get a better deal from Shield if you’d offer help on this investigation?”

 

She raised a single eyebrow, lips pursed. 

 

The silence stretched on. 

 

_ Wow. She was being literal. Lame. _

 

_ I have to say, the tactic is kind of akin to the playground. _

 

Wade rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “I don’t think she’s plannin’ on answering, baby boy.”

 

Spidey sighed, pausing before turning back to Wade. “Well, if you have any suggestions that aren’t murder or torture, feel free to share with the group.”

 

Wade scowled at how the old bat’s smile twisted into a smirk. He nodded to the door, turning to walk out, hearing Spidey sigh again and follow behind. 

 

They shut the door behind them, and then left through the airlock to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “Okay baby boy, we gotta try not to argue in front of the kids, it sets a bad example.”

 

Spidey groaned, leaning against the door, scrubbing a hand down his mask. “Sorry, I hadn’t eaten in a while before I was kidnapped and mildly tortured.”

 

Wade stilled, voice murderous. “They hurt you, baby boy?”

 

“I’m fine, just some weird weaponised sounds in the cell they held me in. Meant to control me more than anything, don’t worry about it.”

 

Wade growled, teeth grinding. Those fuckers. He should have hurt Angel real slow before he blew her up. Should have killed the old broad real fuckin’ slow-

 

“We need to get those answers.” Spidey’s head flopped back against the door, “I wasn’t kidding when I asked if you know of anything that isn’t torture. Could really use your expertise here.”

 

_ That would be such a delicious sentence in different context.  _

 

“I mean, my expertise  _ is  _ torture, baby boy. Maybe we need to call in the golden boys?”

 

Spidey groaned, “Yeah, maybe. I just don’t want to tip off the rest of this group and then they all go into hiding. Like you said, the Avengers are hardly covert.”

 

Wade smirked, “And the red and blue spandex-”

 

Spidey held up a hand, “Alright, red and black.”

 

“Black at least blends a little-”

 

“And the explosions?”

 

Wade snorted, “Touché.”

 

Spidey let out a weak chuckle, Wade feeling his muscles unclench a little at the sound. Shit, hadn’t realised he’d been tense all this time. 

 

_ Hey, I might have an idea.  _

 

Wade flung out a hand to hold onto Spidey’s bicep, doing his best not to focus in on squeezing the muscle as it jumped a little beneath his palm. “Wait.”

 

“What-?”

 

Wade shushed him. 

 

_ I mean, just we almost knew more about her. We just needed more time.  _

 

_ Ew, old lady brain though. It’s gonna be all mothballs and bingo.  _

 

_ She’s a mob boss, Yellow. _

 

_ Yeah, a  _ **_little_ ** _ murder, but she’s still a gross old biddy.  _

 

“That could work”, Wade muttered. 

 

“What? What could work?” Spidey stood up straight, stepping a little closer. “Please tell me you have a better idea than annoying it out of her.”

 

Wade’s lip quirked, “Close. Unbelievably close. It’s a risk, for several reasons. But… It could get us those answers.”

 

“Alright”, Spidey nodded, “I’m hungry. I’m dehydrated. And I have no patience left. Hit me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We got interrogation! We got drama! We got straight up chillin'! What more do we need?
> 
> Also the updates are gonna be slower as this fic is a Struggle and Challenge to write, but we're gonna do it. We're doing it. For the babes.

Ms Gellum squinted at them as Spidey locked the doors and Wade marched forward with a grin. 

 

“Well Grandma, looks like you and me got a date.” He twittered, waving his hands as he closed the distance. “We can stay up late, share our feelings, give up the locations of our minions. You know, girl stuff.” 

 

_ We call top bunk! _

 

Her nostrils flared, gaze flicking back to where Spidey stood guard behind him before settling on his face. Well, mask. 

 

“Now, I would usually be big on consent. But sounds like you’ve already been rootin’ around in my junk, so…” He winked, grabbing her shoulder. 

 

She sneered, “Trying to intimidate me? You know it won’t work, Wade.”

 

“Ha ha! Made you talk.” Wade glanced down at his crotch and back at Spidey, “And I mean, I know I’m a little big, but I wouldn’t call it  _ intimidating _ .”

 

Spidey smacked a hand to his face, pinching where the bridge of his nose must be. “Is it working?”

 

“Well, she’d not really my type, but if it was me tied up, hoo! You know it would be workin’ for me, baby boy.”

 

“Deadpool. Focus.”

 

Wade pouted, cocking his head. It was pretty quiet with the lack of commentary, almost roomy-

 

She jerked beneath his palm trying to spin to look around her before settling back to glare at them. “Trying mind tricks, now? Please. As if that would scare me.”

 

Wade grinned back at Spidey, “Oh yeah, it’s working.” He ducked back down to where her face was twitching through an array of emotions. “How ya feelin’ doll? Don’t worry, I’ll be takin’ back the boxes in a hot minute. Right after we get what we’re lookin’ for.”

 

“This won’t break me.” She spat, “I won’t tell you anything.”

 

Wade tilted his head, grin sharp. “You won’t need to, sweetness. No worries.”

 

She frowned, eyes searching his face before she grit her teeth, curling in on herself.

 

Spidey took a hesitant step forward, “Pool?”

 

She screamed, all her muscles bunching against the restraints.

 

“Deadpool!” Spidey yanked Wade back, causing her to instantly slacken against the restraints, out cold. 

 

Spidey shoved Wade round to face him, “What the hell was that? You said it wouldn’t harm her!”

 

_ She started to see through the fourth wall.  _

 

_ Mind breakin’ shit, y’know? No worries though. She should go back to normal. Probably.  _

 

_ Her mind should reject it. Otherwise she may become more powerful.  _

 

_ Haha, oops? _

 

“Well, that can be a problem for future Pool.”

 

Spidey shook him a little. “What?”

 

“Boxes say that she just broke through the fourth wall a little, no biggie.”

 

“The fourth-? Wade, what?”

 

_ Best not get into this right now. _

 

“Look, they just started makin’ her a little loopy. Like me. But just a little sprinkling of nuts, a taster. Not a whole walnut cake, okay?”

 

Spidey turned back to where she was hunched in the chair, her form a little shrunken. 

 

Wade patted him on the back, “Don’t worry baby boy, boxes say it ain’t permanent.”

 

_ And we know where her buddies are.  _

 

_ More of a cult than anything. She called herself the Mother. _

 

Wade laughed, “The Mother? Oh boy, wish I’d known earlier. That’s so much untapped material.”

 

Spidey snapped his fingers in front of Wade, “What are the boxes saying? Did they get what we need?”

 

_ Oh baby, we got everything you need right here. _

 

Wade grinned, “Yep, we got it all, honeybunch.”

 

Spidey’s shoulders relaxed a little. 

 

“You gonna call your guys to come collect her?” He nodded at the old broad, “I mean I’m all for leaving her to rot at the bottom of a lake, but I heard that ain’t part of your image. Although, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 

_ Or we could throw her in the ACTUAL lake. That’s a great bonding activity. _

 

“Yeah, I can call Shield.” Spidey’s voice sounded a little slurred now, Wade’s eyes narrowing as he took in the way Spidey’s posture wasn’t so rigid now it was showing the fatigue, hands patting uselessly down the lines of his suit. 

 

“Cool.” Wade handed over his own burner phone. “You going home after this?”

 

Spidey looked up from where he was thumbing in the number, “What? No. We need to go deal with this as soon as possible. We can’t risk any more people getting hurt.”

 

_ You have six hours before the next ritual time.  _

 

“We have six hours before that’s a problem.”

 

Spidey squinted at him, Wade tapping his temple. “Boxes.”

 

“Right.” Spidey groaned, “I mean, we’re miles from my place.”

 

“You can crash at mine.” Spidey froze, Wade rushing to continue. “I mean, one of my safehouses. It’s a block over from here. If you’re worried about me being there-”

 

“No, my spidey-sense would wake me if anything was going to happen. And I… Trust you.” Wade felt his breath catch a little. “Well. A little more than before.”

 

“Right”, Wade wheezed a little, clearing his throat and starting to the door. “So, to my place. For a sleepover. With the Spidey-babe. Gasp! I could make pancakes!”

 

Spidey chuckled weakly from behind him, “You really like your pancakes, dude.”

 

“For good reason! They’re everything I want from a lover. Sweet, soft, and oh so versatile.”

 

“And covered in syrup?”

 

Wade burst out laughing, turning to consider Spidey as they started up the stairs. “You know me so well.”

 

**

 

Peter had thought that maybe they'd want to keep a low profile going to one of Wade's hideaways, but was proven wrong when Wade bowed him through the front door while belting out the Jurassic Park theme. 

 

To his credit, no one came to their door to see what was going on, and as the door closed behind them he could hear why when all outside noise was cut off. 

 

"Huh, forgot apartments without paper thin walls existed,'' Peter muttered. 

 

Which, of course, Wade picked up. The other man snorted as he swung onto the leather corner sofa, "You got bit by a radioactive poor person?"

 

"Keep testing me and you will be."

 

"Ooh", Wade purred, tilting his body over the arm of the sofa. "Is that a promise, baby boy?"

 

Of course he made it sexual. Peter ignored his flaming cheeks as he walked further into the apartment, noting the nice view of New York out the window meaning he couldn't sneak out of it. 

 

"Where's your shower?" 

 

"That an invitation, coz I can lead the way", Wade waggled his eyebrows through the suit. 

 

Peter groaned at the ceiling, praying for strength through this terrible decision. 

 

"Alright, baby boy, in the words of the immortal Destiny's Child, I don't think you can handle this right now." Wade flopped back on the sofa, swinging his booted feet on the cushion and flicking on the TV. "Down the hall on you left."

 

"Thank you,'' Peter sighed, turning on his heel to go down the corridor. 

 

His hand on the first door when Wade hastily called out, "Second door!"

 

Peter frowned a little at where his hand rested, glancing back down the corridor before dragging himself away. Shower first. The rubble dust was seriously chafing at this point. 

 

Of course Wade's shower had great water pressure and took no time to heat up. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel irritable about it as he stepped into the spray and felt it loosen his back muscles instantly. 

 

He sighed, relaxed as he turned to face the spray. Wade's soap looked expensive, and smelled strongly of aloe vera and tea tree as he rubbed it between his palms. It didn't lather, so with a shrug he smoothed it straight over his skin and gasped a little as the few scrapes and cuts left tingled a little and instantly soothed the itch. 

 

Made sense, when he remembered Wade's skin. Maybe it was as painful as it looked? Though the merc had never mentioned it, and he didn't seem to have a filter. 

 

Peter pouted a little as he finished off scrubbing down. It was only as he stepped out of the shower when he realised his mistake. 

 

He spun around, opening the lone cupboard to find a hoard of pain meds and slamming it shut with a curse.

 

Wade's voice filtered through from the other side of the door, "You ok in there, Webs?" 

 

Peter sighed sharp, shoving his wet hair off his face. "Yeah, realised I don't have a towel?" 

 

"Oh… Uh… One sec." He heard some stamping and slamming of doors, chewing on his chapped lips while absently skimming back through the contents of the small cabinet. 

 

A knock on the door jolted him from his reverie, "So, I don't have any towels, but I found a clean sheet that should work. But feel free to free-ball it. Promise to only take mental pictures." Wade's voice faded down the corridor toward the living room. "Kisses!"

 

Peter cracked the door open, snatching the pile of cloth in a jumbled pile by the door and grumbling over the lack of towels. Who doesn't have a towel? 

 

Amongst the king size bedsheet was a bundle of clothes. Some soft grey joggers covered in My Little Pony appliqués, jersey boxers, a plain white t shirt and a Deadpool mask.

 

He held up the final item, glancing to where his own mask was on the floor, stiff with dried blood and grime, crispy with sweat. He pulled the mask on, gasping a little at the soft lining inside. It was a hell of a lot more comfortable than he thought the leather and spandex could possibly warrant. 

 

He swiped the steam off the mirror, pulling faces. But no, the mask was just as expressive as his own. He shook his head, tugging on the clothes. All of it was soft and comfortable, the lining of the joggers the softest fleece. All of it was for someone a touch broader and taller than Peter, so he had to roll up the legs and tuck in the shirt, tying the drawstring tight. 

 

He gathered up his grimy suit with the damp sheet and left the bathroom, padding down the corridor to where Golden Girls was now softly playing on the widescreen TV. 

 

Wade swung round from his spot on the sofa only to freeze. 

 

Peter did his best not to fidget under the scrutiny, sure he looked ridiculous and way smaller than he actually was. He held up the bundle, "You got a laundry machine?"

 

"Yeah!" Wade scrambled to his feet, showing him through to a hidden door in the kitchen where the machine sat. "Sure do, and may I just say baby boy, hot dayum you look good. Like, I have ascended to the astral plane and witnessed God Herself, you know?"

 

Peter huffed, shaking his head. "Uh huh, thanks."

 

Wade gripped his shoulder, "No. For realsies. You look-" He kissed his fingers. "12 outta 10. Best Spidey anyverse. Need you to improve my whole wardrobe just by wearing it." 

 

Peter rolled his eyes, determined to ignore his blush. Damn Deadpool and his over enthusiastic compliment sprees. 

 

He moved past the other man to shove his clothes in the washer, not looking at the other man as he swiftly changed the subject. "So, where are we going next?"

 

"Nuh-uh! No shop talk, this is your break time, baby boy." 

 

Peter sighed, scrambling for a topic that wasn't about him or work. "Your soap."

 

Wade made an enquiring noise.

 

"It, uh... Has to be the most soothing thing I've ever used. Possibly the most expensive too judging by the fancy insignia."

 

Wade leaned against a counter, arms crossed and head tilted as he watched Peter stretch to reach the detergent. "Yeah, it's some overpriced lotion rather than a soap, works with your natural oils or some shit. I dunno, I just buy whatever the clerks recommend."

 

Peter glanced back with a brow raised, "You buy what they tell you to? You know they're just upselling shit?"

 

Wade shrugged, "They need the commission, and I've learnt which stores have better quality shit anyways. Makes no difference to me, so long as it works."

 

"So… The soap is meant to help with your skin?"

 

Peter turned back to the machine as Wade winced a little. His voice a little strained as he replied, "Yeah, helps with this whole mess. Stops it itching so much. Helps the healin' a little, until I fuck it up again." 

 

"It heals fully?" Peter didn't quite succeed at keeping the surprise out of his tone.

 

"Nah, not fully. This ain't no fairytale. But the angrier scars fade to white and the sores close up and shit."

 

"And they hurt?"

 

Wade rolled his shoulders a little, Peter hastening to apologise, "Hey, I'm just being nosey, you don't need to-"

 

"Nah, it's fine. It's no secret. They do hurt. Pretty much all the time. But they have better days and worse days."

 

"Right. Of course. I'm sorry, you never mentioned…"

 

"You never asked."

 

Right. He hadn't. "Well, I'm gonna be asking a lot more." He snapped the door shut, spinning to face Wade. "Seeing as I can't talk about work, you're my entertainment."

 

Wade's grin stretched the material of the mask, "That so, baby boy?"

 

Peter nodded, holding up a finger, "First question, how come your mask is so much more expressive on you than me?"

 

Wade laughed, "Maybe I'm just more expressive."

 

Peter scowled at him, Wade holding up his hands, "Alright, don't hurt me. It's the scars, I think. More grip, you know?"

 

Peter nodded, pouting a little. It explained a bit, maybe it was partly how it was made and partly the scarring. "Okay, why do you have no towels."

 

"This really is 20 questions, do I not get to ask any?"

 

"... I'll think about it."

 

Wade's smile hitched a little higher. "Alright, I've not stayed in this place before, just dropped my shit off when I got it, not had reason to need it til now. Didn't realise there were no towels. Do I get a turn now?"

 

"No. Why do you kill people?"

 

The smile dropped off Wade's face, Peter willing himself to stay silent. He'd wanted to know for so long, thought he could figure it out. But now the opportunity to ask had arisen. 

 

"It's not a fun story, baby boy."

 

"Okay."

 

Wade seemed to consider him, Peter doing his best to appear relaxed and open. 

 

Wade's jaw flexed, "I'm not gonna get into details, as you need to be at least level 95 friendship to unlock the added extras, but I was built for this, baby boy. This is my whole purpose."

 

"Like Stitch?"

 

Wade paused before an incredulous laugh burst out. "Excuse me?"

 

"Yeah, you know, he was built to destroy, but he decided he wanted to be more. He redefined his very reason for being." Peter tilted his head, tapping his chin. "I can see it. Weird dog, Wade Wilson."

 

Wade laughed a little helplessly, "You know, I used to be a collie before I got run over."

 

Peter nodded, "That makes sense."

 

He felt his mouth quirk up as Wade snorted a little as he laughed, all the tension dissipated. 

 

"So, you making pancakes?"

 

Wade flopped back, hand to brow. "Alas! I haven't the eggs. I have ordered the cheese pie."

 

Peter hummed, "Nice. Could really destroy a deep pan right now."

 

"You shut your filthy, beautiful mouth, Webs. Stone baked thin crust everyday."

 

Peter patted Wade's shoulder, "You know, it's okay to be wrong."

 

"That's nice for you, as I'm right! You can't get enough layers in the Pizza lasagne calzone when it's deep pan, way too much bread to sauce ratio."

 

"Wait, what are you doing to pizza?"

 

"You gotta layer them-"

 

"You're messing with perfection here!"

 

"No, coz, see, then you have a higher concentration of pizza per bite-"

 

"You know, I defended you when people called you a sick and wrong individual."

 

"You're own mistake, really."

 

"This is sick and wrong!"

 

"I will make you eat your words, and my beautiful pizza. I will rename it Humble Pie in honour of this moment!"

 

"Never gonna happen."

 

**

 

Of course he got Webs to admit his triple layer pizza was a great idea, and he didn't even rub it in that much. He tweeted it, of course. The world needed to know Humble Pie had the Spider-man seal of approval. 

 

_ Must be heaven coz jam don't shake. _

 

_ Wait, no. Stop. That's not how the song goes. _

 

Wade hummed under his breath as he finally showered after waiting for Wonderboy to fall into a deep food coma and slotted him into bed.

 

_ And dayum, if even our bed looks good on him.  _

 

Wade smiled to himself, recalling how his clothes had hung artfully off of Spidey like some kinda fancy boudoir photoshoot. 

 

He tugged himself from the thought as he picked up his lotion.

 

_ Hey, hey. You think Spidey applied it straight on?  _

 

_ Well he mentioned he'd used it but- _

 

_ He totally did. Indirect butt touching. _

 

_ That's not really- _

 

_ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA _

 

Wade pressed his face into the tile, letting the rough edges dig in just this side of uncomfortable. 

 

Took a deep breath, feeling the bubble of energy inflate just below his sternum, a wide grin stretching his face on the exhale.

 

Spider-man was sleeping in his bed. 

 

_ Spider-man  _ was interested in knowing more about  _ him _ .

 

_ Yeah, real interested in getting to know us. _

 

_ Well, interested in you. Totally ignored us.  _

 

Wade bit his lip hard in a losing fight against the giggle crawling up his throat. 

 

He reached over and switched the water to the coldest setting, unable to stop the small yelp at the temperature change. He shuddered, pressing his hands into his eyes. 

 

"C'mon Wilson, hold it together."

 

_ Hardly your forté. I give you an hour. _

 

_ I'll take that action. Twenty minutes, tops. _

 

Wade shook himself, turning off the water and stepping out onto the tile. He grabbed his suit, shaking it out to sniff it and recoil a little. Maybe not. 

 

He elbowed open the door, jumping a little at the small squeak of sound to find Spidey stood in the hall, hastily covering his eyes. 

 

"Sorry! I heard a noise and- I should have realised, you don't have towels so-"

 

Wade blinked, looking down at himself. Right. Naked. Of course.

 

_ Classic fanfic material. _

 

He looked back at Spidey, his smooth freckled shoulder peeking out of the too large shirt.

 

_ Yeah, if we didn't look like someone tried to microwave a piece of cheese onto a Nokia 3310.  _

 

Wade forced a grin on his face, dropping his tone to suggestive, "Didn't wanna sneak a peek for the ol' wank bank? No judgement here. But if I've shown you mine, do I get to see-"

 

"I didn't see anything!" Spidey sounded pretty hasty. He didn't usually ruffle quite this easy. 

 

_ Probably trying not to hurl. _

 

Wade felt his jaw click. 

 

_ Ha ha! I win the bet~ _

 

_ Not yet you don’t! _

 

He waved a hand, turning to his walk in closet, "Oh well, guess you can try harder next time."

 

He marched past the walls of weapons and ammo to the back rack where all his suits hung, trying his best to ignore how the balloon in his stomach had turned sour and heavy, making his fists clench reflexively. 

 

He tugged on a suit as fast as possible, avoiding looking at his skin any longer than necessary. Ignoring how his lack of care opened up a few sores and tore at the newer patches of skin. All of him itched as he ripped down his mask, breathing heavy through his nose. 

 

A gentle knock shook him from his thoughts, spinning to see Spidey's hand waving around the doorway.

 

"You decent?"

 

Wade snorted, "Never."

 

_ It's like he doesn't even know us?  _

 

_ Does anyone? _

 

Wade marched to the door, pressing Spidey back as he turned the corner. "Hey, easy there. Don't want you touching the wrong thing and causing an explosion."

 

_ Haha, sex joke! _

 

"What-?" Spidey's eyes widened as he caught sight of the room behind Wade.

 

_ Real weird looking at your mask staring back at us, gotta say. A little distracting. _

 

Spidey's voice cracked a little, "I thought that was a closet?" 

 

_ Probably disappointed in you. Again.  _

 

"Eh, closet", Wade shut the door, "Weaponry. Either way, I'm coming out." 

 

_ Ooh, I’m coming out! I want the world to know- _

 

_ Wish you guys had stayed in. _

 

He slapped a hand on Spidey's shoulder, the one still fully covered by his shirt, and did his best at ignoring the ruckus in his own head. "Pappa, I'm a gay mercenary."

 

"What? But- "

 

"Ah, fair. I'm pan. But gay has such a nice ring to it." He shrugged, turning back down the hallway, "Breakfast?" 

 

Spidey seemed to shake himself a little as he followed, "Sure, I guess I should check on my suit anyway."

 

"Hung it up to dry. Wasn't sure if it could take the dryer." Wade started opening various cupboards in search of superior breakfasting items.

 

"Oh. Thank you." Spidey walked to where his suit dangled from a coat hanger hooked to a light fitting, reaching up to feel over the material. "I'm not sure if it can handle a dryer, never thought to test it."

 

"Lucky Charms or Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" 

 

Spidey twisted to consider where Wade stood rattling the boxes.

 

_ I'm fine! I'm not scared! _

 

_ The cereal boxes, idiot. _

 

"Uhh, charms?"

 

Wade nodded, sliding the box and milk across the bar and turning to fish out some clean bowls. 

 

"Hey, uh", Wade looked up to where Spidey hesitated with his suit slung over his arm. "Thanks. Getting food and rest was… A good idea. And lending me your stuff… Just yeah

 Thank you."

 

_ We were right? _

 

_ Yeah, of course. _

 

_ And someone admitted it? To our face? _

 

_ Okay, even I was shocked about that part. _

 

_ Although, seems he was raised right. All polite. _

 

_ Shit, it's been too long. Say something! _

 

"Sure! Couldn't be held responsible if you didn't get your beauty sleep." Wade babbled, pulling out bowls and spoons. "And seeing you in my stuff is its own reward. Cuter than unicorn babies made of marshmallows."

 

He froze as he caught sight of pink creeping down Spidey's neck towards his shoulder. 

 

"Okay! Well, time to get dressed."  

 

He watched, fascinated, as Spidey left the room in a flash. 

 

_ You think he always blushes under the suit when we compliment him? _

 

_ I think he didn't even blush just then. Clearly it was the light. _

 

_ Well, we are prone to seeing things. _

 

_ Exactly. No way Spidey gives a shit what we think. And see how fast he ran? Trying to forget what he just witnessed. _

 

Wade tried to focus on not grinding his teeth as he covered his cinnamon cereal in maple syrup, trying to just watch how the thick substance folded over itself.

 

_ Kudos to baby boy for keeping it together that long, tbf. _

 

Wade shoved a spoonful of over-sweet mush into his mouth despite his growing nausea. 

 

_ Yeah, he really is a damn saint. _

 

**

 

Peter was pinching at his lovehandles in the bathroom where his suit had gathered up his fat into a handy little pouch. He frowned, mind flashing back to seeing Wade in the hallway earlier in all his ripped glory. Damn bastard looked like he was fucking  _ carved.  _ Damn him.

 

He knew Wade was probably pretty fit under the suit from how built he was, and the stunts he pulled off considering his only power was super healing. He hadn’t really thought to picture it before. 

 

Peter glared at the mirror. As soon as Peter got to the latter half of his twenties, despite the amount of exercise he did as a vigilante, any junk food he ate went straight to his gut. Which he hadn’t worried too much about before now, as he was still fit and healthy. Just not as in shape as he once was. 

 

Seeing Wade’s body had really reminded Peter of how  _ not in shape  _ he really was. 

 

He slapped his cheeks and to shake the image of Wade’s heavily scarred, naked body from his mind. He didn’t have time to be obsessing over his poor self-care efforts. 

 

He stole some mouthwash from the cabinet, resolutely ignoring his own reflection, before exiting the bathroom to where Wade sat hunched over a bowl of cereal. 

 

“So,” He settled onto the stool opposite Wade, narrowing his eyes a little at how the other man jerked. Stubbornly reminding himself there probably wasn’t time to sidetrack. “How much time do we have left?”

 

Wade didn’t even look up from his bowl even as he yanked the mask back down. “Hour before we gotta leave, give or take.”

 

Alright, maybe had some time. “Hey, you okay, Pool?”

 

His spidey sense was a little itchy, but not the high rumble it became during one of Deadpool’s moods. 

 

The merc shrugged, a roll of his massive shoulders beneath his suit, as he continued pushing the mush in his bowl around. “Fine and dandy, spidey-babe. Classic day in the wonderful life and times of Deadpool.”

 

Peter narrowed his eyes, considering how Wade was slightly curled in on himself, defensive. How he’d tugged his mask back down. 

 

Shit. He’d managed to somehow make  _ Deadpool  _ uncomfortable. After all the stuff the other man had done to help Peter out over the last few weeks, he’d gone and not thought and caught him naked. He heard the damn shower, and he knew the towel situation, it didn’t take a genius.

 

And he knew Deadpool was self conscious about the scars. Of course the whole thing had made him uncomfortable. Damn it, Peter. 

 

He floundered, at a complete loss how to fix the situation. “So, I’ve already emailed work to book the week off, I’m hoping that’ll be enough time.”

 

Wade grunted, getting up to clear the dishes. 

 

Peter picked at the hem of his suit. “When you’re done with breakfast, we could make our way there?“

 

Wade nodded, “Sounds like a plan, boss.”

 

Peter frowned, getting up, “Look, I’m the guest, I can do the dishes-”

 

“Nah, that’s fine.”

 

Peter moved closer, reaching for the plates, “No, really, I can-”

 

Wade jerked away as they brushed shoulders, accidentally smashing a bowl against the side of the sink with the action. He cursed lowly as Peter’s hands flew up.

 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your space-”

 

Wade sighed, groaning as he rubbed his face with a gloved hand. Peter fell silent as Wade stared at the ceiling before turning back to him with a grin plastered on.

 

“No problem, Spidey-babe, you can play space invader with me  _ anytime _ . You wanna go?”

 

Peter gaped a little as Wade moved away, “Uh, I mean. The bowl-?”

 

Wade flapped a hand, moving to the first door on the left. “Eh, don’t worry about it. As the Rocketman said ‘don’t go breaking my heart’, but dinnerware is fair game. Actually, breaking my heart is a privilege I’d pay you to do. So scratch that last part.”

 

Peter quietly collected the shards as he listened to the sounds of Deadpool loading his guns, humming  _ I’m Coming Out  _ off-tune to himself. He frowned a little, feeling like he’d somehow failed some kind of test.

 

But equally, it's not like he’d earned the right to meddle with Wade's life. If the merc didn't want to talk about it, he couldn't force him. That would be sure to make the guy even  _ more  _ uncomfortable than Peter had already made him. Best just do damage control. 

 

Peter huffed a little as he put the broken bowl in the trash, following Deadpool's wishes and not touching the dirty dishes in the sink. 

 

Said merc strolled out of the closet, twirling a knife while whistling to himself. Peter stepped away from the sink, trying not to look guilty.

 

"You ready to make like a tree and split?" 

 

Peter felt his lips twitch into a smile despite the anxiety trying to knot his stomach. "Sure. We opened this can of worms, guess it's time to lie in it."

 

Wade snorted, opening the front door with a flourish. "After you, monsieur." 

 

Peter chuckled at the awful accent as he walked forward, "This show of manners wouldn't be just so you can watch my ass?" 

 

Wade gasped, "Moi? How dare you make such an allegation. I must notify the press!" 

 

Peter laughed, thankful the tense air seemed to have dissipated as the door banged shut behind them. 

 

**

 

_ You're so fucking tense, you idiot. Webs doesn't have time for one of your 'episodes'. _

 

_ Yeah, this is a Spidey-centred fic. Pull yourself together. _

 

_ Look he isn't even fucking listening. _

 

Wade consciously unclenched his jaw, ignoring how his teeth creaked. "What's that sugarplum? Got distracted by that ripe peach you're packin'." 

 

_ You're disgusting. _

 

He could see Spidey's scowl from here. "If you could not yell about my ass to all of Brooklyn-"

 

"No can do."

 

_ Don't deserve to breathe the same  _ **_air_ ** _ as him. _

 

"- and maybe explain the plan."

 

_ Why are you even here? _

 

"So no yelling about that fine prime steak, but yell about the plan? Not the finest tactical plan-"

 

_ Why can't you just  _ **_die_ ** _? _

 

Spidey landed on a rooftop in front of Wade only to turn on him with his arms crossed, full 'I am mad, and disappointed' mode. 

 

_ Maybe he's finally seen sense and is ending this team up. _

 

"And maybe I'll shut you guys up with a nice bullet, how's that?"

 

_ Please. _

 

"What?" 

 

Wade's head jerked up to where Spidey's head was cocked like the cutest superdog. 

 

"Pool, are you… Okay?"

 

_ When is he  _ **_ever_ ** _ - _

 

_ -so disgusting- _

 

Wade did his best to shove down the nausea rising up his sternum. "Just peachy."

 

"The same fruit twice in a row?" Wade winced at how the super fell just short of the light joking tone he was shooting for. "There must be something wrong. If this is to do with earlier, I’m sorry-"

 

“No!”

 

_ And you bothered him. Nice work, numbnuts. You fucking idiot. You absolute waste of space. _

 

Wade turned away from Spidey's mask, his head starting to throb. 

 

"Hey, 'Pool, uh," Wade fixed his eyes on where Webs was shifting his weight foot to foot. "You know if you…" Peter sighed. Shift right, left. A quiet mutter, "We don't have time." 

 

_ -waste of space- _

 

_ -Spidey didn't want you in the first place, but noooo you just gotta push where you aren't wanted- _

 

Wade forced his cheeks into a wide grin, "If you want me to leave, Webs, it's all Gucci. You can just tell you old pal Deadpool."

 

Spidey's feet stilled. Wade jerked his head away. 

 

"What are you-? Wade." He flinched away from how Spidey's voice gentled. Sweet. Sickly.

 

_ Fake. Faker than that smile. _

 

_ Faker than your marriage. _

 

_ Faker than your attempts to be what Spidey tells you you can be. _

 

 "But-? I-!" Webs spluttered, "I don't know where I'm going! Someone is in danger and you're-"

 

"13th and 3rd. Ginger woman, scouting her during her lunch break." Wade spun on his heel, throwing back a stiff salute. "You got an hour to wait for em. Don't have too much fun without me sugartits." 

 

_ Running away again, fucking useless. _

 

_ Worthless! _

 

Wade didn't turn around as Spidey called him back. He didn't turn around at Spidey's quiet curses. He only turned back as he landed on the third rooftop to watch Spidey thwip away.


End file.
